Breaking The Rules
by katherineaw
Summary: Stephanie Plum has had a challenging time since we last saw her. No longer can she rely on those around her, but has had to become independent and strong. With the return of the men from her past, will she survive the many different threats to her life?
1. Prologue

**Breaking the Rules**

**Prologue**

I've always dreamed big. I've wanted to be an intergalactic princess my entire life, not to mention my long time dream of flying or being Wonder Woman. Everyone always told me it wasn't possible, that I couldn't be anything special – anything out of the ordinary. I was born in the Burg, I would grow up in the burg and I would marry and have children in the burg. That was to be my lot in life.

It's a good thing I hate playing by the rules.

The first time I broke the rules, I was twenty five and found my husband flagrante-delicto on my dining room table with my arch-nemesis, Joyce Barnhardt. I got a divorce. The loudest and most disapproved of divorce in the history of the burg. I didn't do very well, my husband was a lawyer for a reason, but at least I got my divorce.

The second time I broke the rules, I was thirty two and had lost my job. I picked up a job, somewhat accidentally, as a Bounty Hunter for my cousin. In the eyes of the burg, everything went downhill from there.

My first skip was a rogue cop, Joseph Anthony Morelli, who was accused of murdering someone. He and I had what was loosely termed 'a history'. At six, I'd been invited in for a game of 'choo choo'. At sixteen, he'd stolen my virginity behind a pastry case at the local Tasty Pastry. At twenty one, I'd run him over with my Buick and broken his leg. He was lucky I hadn't backed over him. He was far more experienced at the whole 'justice' lifestyle and I was having serious trouble finding him, so I called in some… knowledgeable guidance from a friend of a friend. The guidance came in the form of a so-called 'Henry Higgins' by the name of Ricardo Carlos Manoso – Ranger to most. He guided me through the process and after I got Morelli back into the system, became a great friend and guide.

When I delivered Morelli to the station, most people thought I'd done my dash and I'd go back to being the good little hometown girl. Oh how wrong they were. Instead, I took more and more jobs. I even became reasonably successful. I _always_ got my man. Unfortunately, in the process, I had a tendency to leave a trail of destruction in my wake.

Morelli and I became friends, and then lovers. Ranger started 'applying pressure' as he put it. I started to cave. At one point it looked like Joe and I were going to get hitched. That didn't happen. Another point it looked like it was all over between us. I got a particularly rough skip – well, more like… Challenging – and called Ranger in for help. He offered me a deal; one night of my company, for his help. In a moment of weakness, I agreed.

I've always broken the rules.

A while after the event, Ranger and I got together for one amazing night, and then he told me to patch things up with Morelli because he and I couldn't ever be together – his lifestyle 'didn't lend itself to relationships'. I loosely did as he told me, but with no great enthusiasm. What Morelli and I had was a bad habit. A while later, my life took a turn for the worst – both emotionally and physically – when one of my skips turned out to be a member of the prominent local street gang, the Slayers. I became the focus of all the bad vibes between the Slayers and the local law enforcement.

That particular instance in my long line of psycho's and destruction resulted in a near-rape-and-death experience, from which I was saved by a Uzi-wielding school bus driver who ran over the entire group and saved my life, destroying the Trenton faction of the Slayers – well, at least lowering their numbers to such a point that they weren't a major influence anymore.

Ranger and Morelli declared that I was safe as Slayer territory was taken over by another dangerous group and all the Slayers were sent packing. Morelli was called out of town for a job of some description, and Ranger just up and disappeared one day. I've seen neither hide nor hair of either since and nobody in the Burg has either.

That was eighteen months ago.

They were wrong, however, in that the Slayers had not lost interest in me – not by a long shot. If anything, I'd shot up to first priority on their list of people-to-kill. They took out a professional hit on me. It was lucky that some of the RangeMan team had their ears out on their streets and took it upon themselves to forewarn me and teach me to protect myself. My infamous 'luck' held out and I took out two of the people targeting me without copping more than a bruise.

Unfortunately, friends and family became too scared to associate with me, for fear of retaliation from the New York Slayers. You can't run from a Slayer hit. It will follow you wherever you go. The RangeMan team weren't scared, however – probably because they were second on the Slayer's shit list – and as a result I spent most of my time with them, training and fulfilling my social needs. They were great guys and they didn't give a damn that there was a hit out on me; they'd been trying to prove to me that it didn't make me a different person in any way. I sometimes struggled with that belief, but they'd become _such_ good friends over the past eighteen months that I wasn't going to question their calls. I wasn't going to throw away such friendships.

I knew first hand how much it hurt to have people betray you, or abandon you, or plain old forget about you. I swore to myself not to do to anyone, what had been done to me. About the time I realized things weren't going to get better any time soon, I swore that I was going to stop letting what other people did hurt me so much.

Damn but it was hard work.


	2. Chapter One

**Breaking the Rules**

**Chapter One**

I rose early that morning and dressed for my usual run. I'd taken up running not long after the RangeMan boys started to take care of me. One of their conditions for looking after me, was that I had to look after myself – and to do that, I had to get fit. I tried to run daily, but for the sake of variety I would choose a different route all the time; it was safer, too. Taking off down the street, my mind slipped into what I called 'the zone'. It's a state of mind which allows you to be hyper aware of what is going on around you, but not actually need to pay attention. It takes enormous effort to do but for some strange reason – perhaps it was the endorphins in my body – I found it to be the easiest thing to do when I was running.

Running was more a habit than a physical necessity. I could guarantee that during the course of any given day, I would get my daily requirement just from chasing skips. As I didn't eat as much, or as poorly, as I used to, it was merely a matter of balance.

The second step in the daily routine was a shower and breakfast. I had learnt how to grocery shop over the course of the last year and a half; courtesy of having to improve my eating habits and a lack of free meals at my parents house. I opened the pantry door and noted that the muesli was running low, so I poured out what was left and took a note that I needed to replace it.

Part of the rules under which I operated was that although I didn't work for RangeMan, I had to follow the same safety steps – checking in three times a day, ensuring they were aware of any major plans I had – as any of the team. So after breakfast, I called the Intel room and let them know I was alive and kicking and to pick up any info or gossip.

It wasn't until I actually started doing the odd job for RangeMan, when Ranger wasn't around to stilt the conversation that I learnt just how terrible the guys were at gossipping. Not only were all their sources inaccurate – only when it came to gossip and inconsequential things, mind you – but they chose the _worst_ things to gossip about. I had also discovered that all members of the company were at least partially aware of the work being done by the others, so that if a skip was seen in a queue, or something, they could be brought in without delay. I didn't find out until I first took one down, that if you picked up someone else's target, you also got paid their money.

Cal was on Intel that morning and greeted me cheerfully, "G'morning, little lady!"

"Morning, Cal," I returned his greeting, "anything new?"

The Intel room was where all audio and video security measures were monitored, and where all mic and tracking signals were recorded. During an op, the person on Intel was monitoring what was going on at the same time as whoever was on technical detail _on_ the actual op. It was a boring job, if there were no ops going down during your shift; Lester had suckered me into it once, and I'd refused ever since.

"No news on any of your skips," he said, "but that's a bit of a challenge since you've got all of them in."

I laughed, Cal and Lester were the jokers of the group and could always make me laugh, "That's not what I was checking in about. I know which skips I've got. What else is going on?"

"Well, one of our sources just called in. The Slayers are having their Annual General Meeting this week and you're the prime topic of conversation."

Damn. I could never tell whether my ability to be at the centre of every bad thing that was happening, amused the guys. The Slayers AGM was never something I liked hearing about – the last time I'd heard about it, they had doubled the value of the contract on my head. Not a pleasant moment, to be sure.

"Likely outcome?" I demanded sharply.

"Nobody's talking on this one." I could hear Cal's shrug, "All we know is its big and you might want to watch out. It's either going to end, or it's going to heat up after this."

"Shit!" I swore, "Just what I didn't need!" If it was going to heat up, I had no doubt that I was about to reach the end of my rope. Although I was quite dangerous to anyone trying to kill me, there was no way that I could hold out if someone with real skills actually picked up the contract, rather than the three Neanderthals I'd already had to deal with.

"When will we get the info?" I questioned, resigned to a few days of tense waiting.

"Probably within twenty-four hours of the close of the meeting," Cal said, "hey, I've got to go. I've got a radio feed coming in."

"Later," I hung up.

On top of my day job, I'd been doing 'part-time' investigative work into the Slayer fiasco. It was sad that my job came before saving my ass, but I figured, I was either going to get killed by the Slayers or die of starvation because I hadn't earned enough money to feed myself.

I had come up with little – the Trenton faction had been re-established and they took little extra interest in me except to attack me if they saw me. I guess they figured I had enough to be worrying about with an assassin after my ass, not to mention that didn't have the resources to put towards terrorising me, yet. Of course, none of them minded taking pot shots if they saw me. So from a general fear of retaliation, injuries and potential death, I steered clear of Slayer land and tried to avoid questioning any of them.

Today was not part of my investigative time. Although my bank balance was at least in the black, and all my charge cards were paid off, I needed to kick some ass just to establish equilibrium again. So step three in the day was a trip to the office. Since Ranger had disappeared and Joyce was a useless Bounty Hunter, Vinnie had had little choice – despite his fear of Slayer retaliation – but to keep me working for him. As a result, I'd been bringing in more challenging skips.

Ostensibly to aid me in my task of capturing all the thugs that could be found around town, the RangeMan crew had forced me to get a car with all the latest gizmo's and gadgets – including GPS and an inbuilt tracking device and microphone. The microphone could be turned on and off, but the GPS and tracking device could not. The car would have been a wet dream for James Bond – I had seats with special storage compartments for weapons, the car was specially reinforced, there were warning buttons for any tampering. I figured although it may not last forever, it had a better chance of survival than any of my other, less protected, cars did.

I pulled up outside the office and scanned the surroundings. It was all clear so I slipped out of the car and headed into the office. A familiar scene greeted me; Connie painting her nails while Lula 'filed' a donut under 'D for Delicious'. It was such a pity that the familiar actions wouldn't follow; there was to be no demand for 'details' of my non-existent sex life, there would be no comments about my latest disaster and there would be no threatening to shoot Joyce Barnhardt on my behalf.

"Morning!" I greeted them cheerily, despite my inner musings. I continued directly to Vinnie's office, ignoring the fact that they were ignoring me, and knocked once before entering. Since I became his 'star' Bounty Hunter, my cousin had started dealing with me directly. It was a strangely pleasant change.

"Stephanie!" he beamed. Although being taken seriously by my boss was nice, I always cringed internally when he smiled at me – it made me wonder what sort of evil surprise he had for me; considering there are rumours tying him, a lady and a duck together, you can see why I wonder.

"Got anything exciting?" I asked, keeping my internal qualms hidden, "Anyone I can shoot? My Glock's beginning to feel unloved," I knew Vinnie wouldn't like that. I think he was partially afraid I was going to shoot him one day, just because my gun hadn't been used in a while.

"Jesus!" he mumbled, his smile falling from his face, "didn't you kill a guy a month back?"

"He was a known assassin," I replied, "it didn't count. It was legal," why not add fuel to the fire? With my cousin, Vinnie, it was easier done than said.

"My insurance company hates it when you kill people," he informed me, his eyes slightly flinty in fear, "the paper work is a nightmare."

"Whatever," I smirked internally, "are there any files?"

He pushed four manila folders towards me and I flipped through them; Rapist, Arson, Murder and Abuse. I selected the Rapist and the Abuser, "I'll take these two," I said finally. If I could bring them in on time, I would pick up twenty three thousand dollars – enough to get me ready for summer.

"And just who's going to take the others?" Vinnie demanded, "This isn't a fucking charity!"

"Lula might do it," I suggested, almost kicking myself for offering the extra money to Lula. I refused, as a rule, to take just any skips – since I no longer had to, I couldn't see the point in dealing with the low-life scum. At least dealing with low-life rapists and abusers, I would get big money. I decided to throw him a bone, "Don't worry about it, Vinnie," I said bracingly, "I'm sure if Lula won't do it, Joyce is interested."

"Can't one of your guys do it?" he pleaded, "Joyce pulled a muscle in her jaw the other day." I wonder how she did that?! Joyce was my number one enemy – _nothing_ could make me treat her with anything like respect. She was a skanky 'ho bag, and that was all there was to it.

"Firstly, Vinnie, they're not _my_ guys," I said coldly, "they work for Ranger. If you really needed an extra pair of hands, you'd get off your arse and hire someone else," I thought about it for a moment, Tank had let slip that he was low on cash the other day, "I'll mention it when I meet the guys for dinner tonight," I relented – but only because it might help out Tank, "but no promises. Maybe Jeanne Ellen will be prepared to help out some time."

"She's too much hard work," he grumbled.

I smirked, "well… aren't you glad you hired me?"

My day progressed smoothly after that. My first stop was to check out the residences of my skips. The first guy, Alan Bertini, had been arrested for rape when a victim came forward and the DNA found on her matched his. Following her announcement, a good five other victims had come forwards with their own claims against him. I was surprised he'd gotten bail. If I could bring him in, though, it was worth $18,000 to me.

I drove to his house. It was located in the middle of the Chambersburg quarter of Trenton – a suburb I used to be proud to call my own – and was no better or worse than any of the houses around it. In fact, it was the same as any of the other houses in the street. It was built from red brick, had a dark tiled roof, was a two storey building and had a selection of curtained windows. The garden was well kept and I could tell it had been mowed recently so I assumed that _someone_ was living there.

Knocking on the door, it was opened about ten minutes later by a nervous looking woman, "Yes?" she demanded.

She was perhaps ten years older than I was, but she had a tired, drawn face and I caught a hint of a fading bruise beneath a pallet of makeup. Her hair was loose and messy to hide as much as possible. She was wearing an apron, which she kept wringing between her hands, "What do you want?"

"I'm looking for Mr. Bertini," I said politely, "is he in?"

"No, ma'am," she said nervously, "he's not. Can I take a message?"

"Do you know when he's due home?" I asked.

"No, ma'am, I don't."

"Please," I said kindly, "call me Stephanie."

"Thank you," she blushed slightly, "would you like to come in? I'm making tea."

"That would be lovely," I was polite, "thank you, -" I waited.

"Eliza," she said after a moment, "Eliza Henshaw."

"Stephanie Plum," I said cheerily as I stepped inside, despite the siren that I could sense flashing between my ears. Something was _definitely _off about this woman.

The inside of the house gave me no reason for my suspicions. Admittedly the house was a bit cluttered for the Burg, but I got the impression that Eliza and Bertini weren't originally _from_ the Burg. She led me quickly into the living room and sat me down on a worn-leather sofa, with a multi-coloured crocheted quilt hanging over it.

I looked around, there was another sofa – almost identical – opposite me, and in between was what looked like a handmade wooden coffee table. Down one end of the two sofas was a fireplace which didn't look like it had ever been used, but above it was the item of interest; a ledge covered in photographs. My mind flicked briefly back to the file I had scanned before I left the car and I got a picture of my skip. The photos were each of a different girl, and the final photo on the ledge, was my skip.

"Oh!" Eliza returned and looked a little surprised to see me looking at the photos.

I turned and smiled at her, "who are these girls?" I asked.

She didn't answer, but her hand shook slightly as she lowered the plastic tray to the table. I moved back to the sofa. She handed me a mug with a slightly faded logo of Batman on it. I frowned slightly as I helped myself to sugar and milk.

"So, how can I help you, Stephanie?" Eliza asked.

"I've come to take Mr. Bertini down to the police station," I said quietly, "he missed his court date and he needs to reschedule it. It will just be a short visit, he will be bailed out again."

"He was arrested?!" Eliza looked surprised, "when did he get arrested?" She slapped her hands over her mouth after her question and looked afraid.

"You didn't know he was arrested?" I kept my voice low; I was surprised that she didn't know.

She shook her head nervously, "he never tells me anything," she said quietly, "it's not my place."

"What are you to him?" I asked curiously.

"I'm his helper," she murmured, "I do the housekeeping and whatever else needs to be done."

"Surely you were interviewed by the police?!" I was astounded; how could they have missed such an important person in the accused's life? Normally for a high-profile case like a serial-rapist, they would have put every resource into ensuring that he was properly convicted.

I left Eliza my card, in the hopes that she would call me when he returned home. I called in to the Intel room and let Cal know who my new skips were, and where I'd been. I went door-to-door down Bertini's street, but didn't find anyone who would answer the door, so I finally climbed wearily back into my car and drove towards where my other skip lived.

As I was about halfway, Cal called to ask if I was available for a distraction job that evening. I agreed, and then we both swore when our respective police-scanners went off with an announcement about a shootout in downtown Trenton between a few of the RangeMen team and one of the local gangland groups. This was when the extra money I'd spent on the Porsche really paid off; I zipped through the streets to the sight of the gun fight, arriving before many other people.

Tank was injured and was fighting with one of the paramedics who wanted to take him into the hospital. Bobby and Lester were trying to explain that they had medical training and could take care of him if he went with them. I made a brief check of the gang members involved in the shootout and determined none of them to be relevant to my issue with the slayers, so I went over to the ambulance and interrupted the lady's very calm reasoning about why Tank should go to the hospital.

"Lady," I said grumpily, having had to deal with her after numerous other incidents involving guns and blood, "how many times do they have to tell you? They _know_ how to take care of a gunshot wound. Most of us have had several in our lifetime. If you don't mind, we've got better things to do than piss-fart around here talking to you!"

I threw a questioning glance at Tank and got a weak grin from him. Bobby and Lester stopped arguing and agreed to take him home, while I dealt with the police – RangeMan policy was to have a trusted party deal with the police while injuries and other matters were dealt with, I volunteered from a lack of anything better to do and because I knew none of the police would want to spend much time in my presence, for fear of Slayer retaliation. "Bobby, can you call in when Tank's fine?"

"Sure, Bomber," he smirked, "aren't you glad you're just watching this one? Rather than being involved?" Bobby was _generally_ the responsible one – but even he couldn't resist making a few cracks at my bad luck.

I rolled my eyes, "Nope," I said with a shake of the head, "at least when it's me, I know what's going on," I thought about that and then amended it briefly, "sort of."

All the guys, even Tank, laughed. Finally, however, I waved off the ambulance and turned around to face the questioning police team. I smiled sweetly, "Hi guys," I said politely. Despite my pleasant smile, however, my voice was steel and my eyes were ice. I could sense Hector and Kevin stepping behind me, ready to get my back if these guys provoked me too much.

"What the fuck just happened, Plum?" Eddie Gazarra glowered at me, "what the _fuck_ are you doing here?"

Eddie Gazarra used to be my best friend on the force. We grew up together and he had eventually married my cousin, Shirley the whiner. Until my problems with the Slayers, I had believed he would be there for me through thick or thin.

Oh, how wrong I was.

"A friend of mine got injured, Gazarra," I said coolly, "so I came down to check on him. Do you have a problem?"

"Yeah!" he snarled, "I do. You should leave the state! You're a danger to anyone you talk to! Get out of here. You're not wanted!"

Although recoiling mentally, I didn't blink. I'd never had such a strong reaction from my one-time strongest supporter. "I'm sorry you think so, Gazarra," I replied coolly, spinning around and beginning to walk away. Kevin and Hector flanked me as I returned to my car and climbed inside. Hector got into the passenger seat, and Kevin got in the back. I guess I was going to the RangeMan building.

"You okay?" Hector asked kindly. He didn't speak very often, telling me once that he preferred to save it for things that mattered.

All the guys knew just how much it upset me every time my old friends took a shot at me. Even though I swore not to let it affect me, I couldn't help but be stung at just how weak our friendship apparently was.

I smiled weakly at him, my eyes tearing up, "I'm fine, Hector. I've just got to get used to it. Hopefully, though, this will all be over soon."

"And are you just going to let everyone back into your life?" Kevin demanded, "After all the shit you've had to put up with over the last eighteen months?"

Kevin and had joined the team at about the same time I did, and was the technical whiz-kid. He was a good five years younger than me and, although you may find it hard to believe, much more impulsive.

Shrugged, I responded tonelessly, "it's not really their fault. They're scared."

"Bullshit, Steph!" Kevin exploded, "why is that _any_ excuse. I'm scared, Hector's scared… we're all scared but we care about you more than that. Maybe we know how to take care of ourselves a bit better, but your _good_ friends had to know that you would have looked after them if they'd looked after you."

"I'm not sure if my friends were ever true friends," I said, my voice a little shaky as we motored towards the RangeMan building so I could drop my two companions off. They say a crisis shows you who your true friends are, and I was fairly sure that the RangeMan crew qualified as _true_ friends. The jury was still out on all my other 'friends'; I wasn't sure I could forgive them for abandoning me when they did, but I did understand where they were coming from.

"Where are you going now?" Kevin asked.

"I might go home. Wallow in misery until the job tonight. What do you think?"

"Probably a bad idea, you think too much," he informed me bluntly, "come to the office. I'm going to the gym. Why don't you do some sparring with me and then we can get a massage from Hillary and Cooper?"

"Sounds good," I nodded. Hillary and Cooper were the two Masseuses on retainer at RangeMan and because I worked part time, I was able to make use of them when I needed. If I went with one of the guys, I generally got _my_ massage from Cooper while they had Hillary's dextrous hands work magic on their muscles. When we reached the RangeMan building, I parked in the lot, in my usual space – it always gave me a thrill to have my own space – and we all climbed out. I noticed the presence of an extra vehicle – a shiny new black SUV, by the looks – and glanced at Kevin.

"News to me," was all he said.

Hector shrugged as well, and we exchanged mildly confused glances as we entered the lift.

We took the lift down to the sub-basement, where the gym was located and all set in for a session. I got changed – I always had an exercise wardrobe in my locker here, knowing that the guys liked to drag me here as often as they could - and filled up my water bottle before making my way over to the mat to meet Kevin. He and I were a similar skill level, although he was more experienced and therefore better able to utilize his skills.

He'd been forced to retire from the army at an early age after an injury was listed as a potentially permanent disability. He'd been snapped up at RangeMan and put through a long process of rehabilitation before he joined their A team. As a result, he and I had been at about the same level when I'd started training properly because his mobility was, at that point, severely limited.

We sparred casually for ten minutes, just warming up and getting used to our bodies again, before we both picked up the pace. His attacks became more focused and stronger. My defence became speedier and more offensive as I tried to disable him long enough to win the battle.

An hour later we were both hot and sweaty and retired to a smaller sub room to have a shower followed by the awaited massage and talk.

"Anyone new joining the team?" I queried as Cooper – the male masseuse on retainer – began to knead my shoulders. I was thinking about the new SUV in the garage.

"Not that I know about," Kevin replied, "but that don't mean much. Nobody had permission for a new car, though. Company brief about six months ago said that there were to be no new vehicles unless the old one was certifiably beyond repair for twelve months."

"Shee-it," I whistled, knowing that RangeMan usually had at least one new car a month, if not weekly, "I bet that upset the system!"

"There were rumours we were going belly-up at that time," Kevin shrugged, "but we're still here and there don't seem to be a need for new cars, really."

I nodded, "true enough. So what's your view on the new car?"

"The Boss might be back," he said casually. I could sense him waiting on my reaction. I knew many people blamed me for him leaving, but Kevin had never commented one way or the other and I had no desire to know where he stood on the issue. He'd only met Ranger once or twice before he left, having been new to the team at the time.

I frowned, "why would he come back?" I asked, "Why did he leave, anyway?"

"Nobody knows," Kevin shrugged, "a few of his closest friends were speculating it was because of a woman, but most people think he got called in for an operation with the government. What's your take?"

"I didn't know him well enough to judge," I said with a shrug, "I find it strange that he and Morelli, the top two investigative minds in the state, just disappeared at the same time… But I'm not really game to make anything of it."

Cooper chose that moment to move down to massaging my legs and I moaned, "oh, Cooper, are you sure you won't change sides and marry me?" Cooper was the gay guy in the group and perhaps that was why he loved his job so much – he got to massage the hottest male bods in the state, and got paid to do so!

"Sorry, Fairy, but Jason and I are getting married next month!" Cooper replied, a smile in his voice and his hands. Fairy was the nickname he'd given me when I complained that the Grocery Fairy and the Tooth Fairy came from the same family – the lack-of-commitment family. Normally I would have been annoyed that he'd called me 'Fairy' but I was too caught up in the second half of his comment.

"WHAT?! You're getting married?" I screeched, "You never told me that! Where?! When?! How?!"

"Woah," Cooper lightly swatted my ass, "calm down. We're going to Canada in four weeks for a short ceremony and then we're off to the Caribbean for a honeymoon before it's back to work."

"Damnation!" I scowled, "who's going to be around if you're not?"

"A very good friend of mine has agreed to baby-sit your muscles while I'm not around," he said a soft smile present on his face.

"So who proposed to whom?" I demanded, "how did it happen? Tell me!"


	3. Chapter Two

**Breaking the Rules**

**Chapter Two**

Kevin and I spent a relaxed afternoon together, after our massage. He had a shitty assignment that week with eight blocks of Intel room in five days so I waited for my distraction job with him while he worked the Intel room. Working the Intel room, was seen as the worst job and so they tried to roster it so that they only had it twice a week, but it seemed Kevin had been… procrastinating on fulfilling his requirement of in-room time and had thus scored an almost full week of intel work.

It was Monday, and he had a long work day as he had a morning surveillance shift and an evening shift in the Intel room which didn't allow him to go home in the middle to get some sleep. I felt kind of sorry for the guy so I had volunteered to keep him company after my massage and before my distraction job. He talked about various things going on in his life and I relaxed and enjoyed the not-so juicy gossip he shared.

Kevin was about as straight as they came. If it had two arms, two legs, two tits and was female he wanted to be in its pants. Luckily he and I were good friends; otherwise it could have gotten awkward between us. Wait, what was I talking about? It _did_ get awkward between us. In fact, he'd been quite a thorn in my backside for the early months of his time at RangeMan, but we eventually sorted it out.

Actually, Hector had walked in on me trying (for something close to the hundredth time) to explain politely that I wasn't even remotely interested and had taken one look at my stressed face and Kevin's cocky one and said quietly, "She's not interested, Kevin. Stop making a fool of yourself."

They were, the way everyone tells it, the first words that Hector ever said to Kevin. The pair had worked together on two ops over three months and Hector had not said a single word to him, Until that moment. Kevin had been so astounded that Hector could actually talk that he just sat there and stuttered for a good twenty minutes.

He hadn't really pestered me since and he'd become great fun to work with. It hadn't taken long for us to work everything us and although it had arisen between us since then, never in a serious way. Kevin understood I wasn't interested in sex-without-commitment; at least not with a colleague. I wasn't prepared to deal with the backlash of having slept with someone I worked with – especially now that he was such a good friend.

Although he wasn't much for commitment, he'd apparently met this new girl who he was really worked up about. He thought this might be a serious relationship (I was sceptical) and had been trying the commitment thing on for size.

Well, he hadn't had sex with anyone but her since he met her a week ago.

By his standards, that was quite a statement.

Tank, Bobby and Lester walked in as he was filling me in about his successful week of monogamy and Bobby laughed, "oh, yeah, did you want to place a bet, Steph? When his commitment ends? It's twenty to buy in."

"What are the bets?" I asked.

"Lester's got tomorrow. Cal has Wednesday, I'm on Saturday and Tank is on Thursday."

I pulled out a twenty and passed it over, "I'm saying Friday."

Even Kevin looked at me in surprise, "you mean you think I can last only a week and a half?" he said, his voice reflecting a bit of hurt.

I quickly hurried to soothe a wounded male ego, "Don't be silly, Kev," I smiled, "I think you can go as long as you want to – assuming she's good enough and creative enough in bed."

He still looked a little upset so I smiled at him, "I just said Friday because women have a tendancy to refuse sex on a Friday night – because they're tired – and that's when guys want it most, right?" I had overheard that one through the thin walls between the locker rooms when the guys were complaining about their various girlfriends refusing to have sex on a Friday because they were too tired.

Tank shook his head in amusement, "you are a laugh a minute," he smiled at me, "Thanks for taking care of the paramedic," he said, "I never understand why they listen to you and not us."

"Maybe because I'm not male and hot enough to melt metal?" I returned his smile with a small one of my own. It was a long standing joke that the only prerequisite I thought RangeMan had when it was hiring, was that all the guys had to be extremely fine specimens of men.

"Yeah," Tank smirked at my compliment. I noticed, as a laugh circulated the room, that the numbers had gradually built up to around ten men. Tank addressed the room, "hey, does anyone know who owns the new SUV?"

Cal, who'd been operating the Intel room when it was delivered shrugged, "it was driven in by a random. It's an advanced delivery for something. It was definitely a RangeMan purchase, payment slip came out on a RangeMan credit card, but it was one of the Miami crowd. Rumour has it some of the old team are returning to town."

"Old team?" I was confused. I wasn't aware that RangeMan was _old_ enough to have an 'old team' and I was fairly sure I knew everyone who worked for the company.

"The founders of RangeMan," Tank supplied, "Ranger, Diego and Mara."

"Are the last two names supposed to mean anything to me?" I asked, a little snootily. But the speculation of Ranger returning being repeated here caught me by surprise.

"Ranger's brother and sister."

"This is a regular old _family_ business?" I frowned, "how _cute_!" More importantly – how had I _not_ known? I'd been working with these guys for three years and as good as living with them for one and a half, how had that sort of information escaped my notice?

"The three of them were a real team," Tank shook his head at me, sensing where my mind was going and signalling me not to make too big a deal about it. "nothing got past them. Ever. Mara and Diego moved back to Miami about three years back. Ranger followed a year and a half later." He watched me carefully.

I could tell that he wasn't the only one watching my reaction, almost the entire room at fixed frosty looks on me at that point. Even I could sense the importance of the timing of Ranger's departure, but I couldn't see what relevance three years ago had. I replied to Tank with a silent nod.

He was about to say something to me when someone piped up from the back of the room, "Why would the Boss be coming back?" I was saved!

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a new body standing in the doorway, and nodded to him in greeting. Jesus Rodriguez was in charge of the Trenton office of RangeMan. "Does he need a reason," Jesus stepped into the room at that moment, his movements even and calm despite the tension evident in his forehead, "even I don't know why the SUV was delivered," he said to the group, "all I know is that it was ordered by the Miami office and they paid for it. I have heard nothing to suggest that any of the Manoso's will be returning to Trenton any time soon."

"Hey, Jesus, do _you_ know why they left?" It was Cal. I knew what Cal was asking. He'd had a hard time dealing after Ranger had left – he'd not fitted in so easily as some of the others had, and it was only because Ranger had been around to talk to and get help from, that he'd been comfortable enough at RangeMan to stay on. When Ranger left, Cal had been very close to quitting because he couldn't cope. I never really understood what kept him on, but he was still here and I was glad of it.

"I do," Jesus answered calmly, "they had set the business up so that it could be run by someone like me, so they could return to their homes in Miami and their families."

"Yeah, but why did Ric stick around so much longer than the other two?"

"I am not privy to that kind of information," Jesus said finally, "and this conversation is not a matter for discussion. The car is there for a reason which will be revealed to us eventually. Tank, brief everyone on tonights job and get going."

Tank was very good at following orders, and as soon as he started detailing the plans for tonight, every one paid attention. It was a small distraction job, but routine. I would go in wearing a skimpy number and would catch the eye of our target – using pretty much whatever means necessary - before leading him outside and then taking him down. After that, I was free to go home. It was Lester's op, so he would be waiting outside the front door for me while his partner, Bobby, would be monitoring the microphone. Tank the only other active member of the team for tonight would be inside, watching me from a back corner. He would help out if it didn't look like it was going to go down as planned or if it looked like I needed the extra depth that would come from his presence.

Considering I'd had plenty of time after my massage, it took only a few minutes to get everything together. I touched up my hair and makeup and slipped into my outfit. The 'slut get up' of the night, as I liked to call my distraction outfits, was a black leather miniskirt that barely reached mid thigh when I stood up, paired with a black silk cloth about the size of a handkerchief which was held across my chest by a few silver metal strands. A sizeable amount of Hollywood tape removed any chance of undesired exposure and I was ready to go.

Lester was pretending to be a 'Bouncer-In-Training' at the door, and was working with the actual Bounce on the door. He nodded at me once and the Bouncer realized that I knew him, and let me inside. Although named 'Ice', the club was hot. I was surprised at how crowded it was for a Monday night. People usually _tried_ to pretend that they were starting the week off well, so Monday nights were generally quieter than most. There was a fair proportion of the room on the dance floor and a number were at the bar. I sensed Tank at one of the booths, but couldn't spot my target.

"_Is he in the club yet?" _I asked into the mic.

"_Haven't seen him enter,"_ Lester replied.

"_Tank?"_ I prompted, when the big man didn't reply to my request. Was it that hard to say yes or no? Mind you, Tank and Hector were from the same tree if you wanted to look at it like that; neither liked to talk, too much (not that Tank could hold back all the time). Peas of a pod and all.

"_He's not hiding out in the gents, if that's what you're asking," _Tank responded, his voice almost acidic.

It took all my will power not to laugh out loud and the I'm-wounded-by-your-lack-of-patience tone of voice he used. Instead, I allowed a small smirk to appear as I surveyed the room. I walked up to the bar, and took a seat, ordering a mineral water. The bartender eyed me in surprise, "You sure you don't want something stronger, luv?" He wasn't from the states, his accent was slightly British.

"I'm working," I said matter-of-factly, "you're not from around here?"

"I'm on a study-tour," he replied. I looked him over and it made sense, he was a good fifteen years younger than me. He continued, ignorant of my scrutiny, "I went broke about a month ago and picked up this job to pay my way."

I nodded politely, and sipped on the mineral water. "Is it always this busy?" I asked. The club was full of people, there was barely space to move at certain areas. It would have been a student heaven.

"On weeknights," he nodded.

"What?" I was surprised, "it's not shut on weekends, is it?"

"God no," he shook his head, "it's just they've got this horrendous band that plays on the weekends, so nobody wants to come; especially because there are so many other options on a weekend."

I nodded, "what sort of music does the band play?"

"It's punk-rock," he said, "but it's not very good. It's sung by these girls who look like they're gay or something and…" he shrugged, "I guess the whole appearance is just a big turn off."

"I used to have some friends who were big on music,"

"Yeah?" he looked only mildly interested, "What are they doing now?"

"_He's just walked in"_ Lester announced through the mic, saving me from answering. I turned around, ignoring the bartender and in a long scan of the room, I pretended I was looking for someone, and merely passed my eyes over my target. It was definitely him. He wasn't looking towards the bar, but was making his way determinedly towards a table in the darkest corner of the room.

"_Looks like this one isn't going to happen_," Tank muttered, "_Why don't we pack up and go home. I'm sure we can get him another night."_

Giving up is never an option for me, and I wasn't about to start now. _"Come on, Tank," _I said, _"This could be fun. Besides, I always love a challenge!"_ I heard a few guffaws from Bobby and Lester.

"_Fine,"_ Tank acquiesced with good grace.

I downed my drink, thankful it wasn't actually alcoholic – getting sloshed would have put a big crimp in my non-existent plans for the evening – and stepped onto the dance floor. One of the first things I learnt at college is that if you have the confidence to dance on your own, you'll only be alone as long as you want to be. There is something eye catching about a woman who is prepared to dance by herself, who is prepared to make a statement: I am a single woman. I am having fun without a man. It's almost a challenge to men, that they need to prove that a woman will have _more_ fun with a man. Admittedly, I have no problem with that sort of 'mixed' fun, but I needed to entice this man out – or, at least, get him out, with me in the vicinity.

I began to sway my hips ever so slightly, just picking up the tail end of a slow song. A split second later, 'Dirty Dancing' by The Black Eyed Peas came on, and I began to really move. Dancing, is almost a sexual experience – when done properly – and one I fully intended to take advantage of; especially to such a song as this. I began to dominate the floor, I was in the middle and people stepped out to give me some room. My eyes were shut as I really began to feel the music – my hands roamed my body as I moved to the beat of the music, skimming over my breasts and down past my crotch before running back up my sides and into the air. Someone stepped up to the challenge I offered and I opened my eyes; Tank.

He was a good dancer, his movements erotic and appropriate. He pulled me close to him and I greeted him with a smile and then began to grind against his thigh. He grabbed me and lifted me up, I twisted my legs around his waist and leaned back as he mock-thrust into me, spinning me around. It was an amazingly erotic experience. I shimmied down to the ground and then raised myself up around his body, my breasts gripping his leg and arm.

"Damn, Bombshell!" I heard him mutter.

The song came to an end and Tank and I stepped away from each other, with a kiss.

"_Fuck!"_ Lester could be heard over the mic. I glanced up and noticed he'd stepped inside the club.

"_Dance with her,"_ Tank commanded, shooting me a smile, as he leaned in to whisper in my ear, "you need to be 'available'. This guy isn't in to poaching."

I shivered and smiled, "you got it."

I recognized the next song as 'Dance Like This' by Wyclef Jean and Claudette Ortiz. I held my arms out to either side and began to shake my chest, my head thrown back. As I leaned a little further back, Lester appeared. I grinned, "Hey," I said with a smile.

"If this is how you dance, Bombshell, I'm going to have to take you clubbing more often!" he laughed as he pulled me up close. I was hot and sweaty, and he was similar (albeit for different reasons) and our hands began to roam the expanse of the others body. He was a much better dancer than Tank, probably because he was Spanish and it was in his blood, but whatever it was – he was an _amazing _dancer. He pulled me up against his groin and, gripping my ass he swung me over him once, twice, three times. I threw my head back at the sensations he was evoking in me. He began to grate against me and I felt like a truly sensual, sexual, beautiful person for just that brief moment in time as I felt him hard and pulsating against me.

Halfway through the next song, though, the dynamic in the club changed. I felt my skin prickle and the hair on the back of my neck stand up. My body was reacting in ways that it hadn't reacted for a very long time. There's only ever been one person who could make my body react like that and I hadn't seen a single trace of him for eighteen months. I whispered to Lester, hoping the mic would pick it up, "Is Ranger in town?" I asked.

"What makes you say that?" Lester looked surprised at my question. I wasn't sure if he was surprised because I thought Ranger was there, or if he was surprised because he knew something I didn't.

I didn't respond right away, I waited briefly for a response through the mic, but all I got was Tank's breathing. Finally I responded, "I can sense him. Well, I'm either sensing his presence, or something is about to go seriously wrong."

"Whatever it is, Bomber, I've got to get back outside," Lester apologized looking at me slightly worriedly, "my break is over."

"_As far as we know, Ranger's still in Miami,"_ Kevin's voice came over the mic from the Intel room.

"_Yeah, well something bad is going down,"_ Tank said, _"Call off the op, Bobby. This isn't-"_

"Excuse me," someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, losing my concentration on the conversation going on through my mic. It was my target for the night, "I saw your partners left you. Would you care to dance?"

I laughed and tossed my hair back, "I'm a bit thirsty actually," I said, "may I get a drink first?"

"Let me get that for you," he offered generously, and led the way to the bar, his hand resting on my bare hip. It was sweaty and sticky, but I didn't want to complain as I was hoping to entice him outside with the temptation of hot and sweaty sex. He took my order and brought my drink. I sipped it for a few moments, waiting until a decent song came up before I suggested we return to the dance floor.

My skin was still prickling as I stepped back out and I was still absolutely positive that Ranger was out there, however I had a job to do and I couldn't afford to get distracted. This guy was dangerous, despite how nice he seemed. He did score points for his ability to laugh at himself - he was a hopeless dancer - and we whiled away three songs, despite the voices in my ear (Tank, Bobby and Lester) telling me to get out of there.

A while later I turned to the man (who still hadn't told me his name), "Sorry, but I have to get home. Would you mind escorting me to my car?"

"You have a curfew?" he asked with a faint smile.

I shook my head, "I'm tired."

"So you need an escort to your car?"

"This place isn't the best part of town at this time of night, you know," I tried the slightly nervous smile and luckily it worked.

He offered me his arm, and I took it, "Thanks," I giggled, "I hope I can remember where I left my car!"

"I'm sure I can drive you, if you forgot," he offered.

I nodded seriously, "thanks for the offer, but I should at least _try_ and find my car first."

"Of course," he agreed genially.

We left out the front door, and Lester slipped behind us. As we moved up to where I knew Tank and Bobby would be, I watched everything around me, "I'm sure it's around here somewhere," I giggled as if I was a bit drunk, making myself sway slightly as I walked. As soon as we reached an empty stretch, I began to make my movements a little less predictable and then all of a sudden, I 'swayed' into him, knocking him to the ground; unconscious as a result of my stun gun connecting with his arm.

Lester arrived in time to slap on some cuffs and then Bobby and Tank pulled up in the van and we loaded him in. As we drove I turned to Lester, "hey, Les, can I take you up on that offer to go clubbing another time?"

He turned and grinned a wolfish grin at me, "I would like nothing more than to dance with you again."

I returned his smile, "thanks."

At the police station, I remained seated – there was no need for me to slow down the already bureaucratic process by annoying the cops with my presence. Lester stayed to keep me company.

"Are you sure it was Ranger you saw?" he asked.

"I didn't _see_ him," I said quietly.

"So how did you know he was there? You have a sixth sense or something?"

I just looked at him.

"What?" he countered my look.

"I sensed him," I said finally.

"You _sensed_ him?" Lester looked sceptical, "that doesn't make sense, Steph."

"Just trust me on this one, Lester," I said calmly, "I had the same reaction I have had _every_ time I've ever been around him. Nobody and nothing else – not even _donuts_ – makes me react like that; how could it be anything _but_ Ranger?"

"I just find it hard to believe that he was there and I didn't see him go in, and Tank didn't see him in there."

"What if Tank did," I responded, "didn't you hear his command to end the op? What was that about?"

"I guess we'll have to ask him," Lester responded, "I just find it a bit difficult to believe you can sense a _single_ person."

"It's not that," I countered. "it's like…" I paused as I tried to think of something he would understand, "if someone's watching you, you can always tell, right?"

He nodded.

"And I _know_ you can tell whether Tank or I are looking at you, right?"

He nodded again.

"So doesn't it stand to reason that I could tell _someone_ was watching me, and because I am familiar with the way Ranger has looked at me before, I could sense that it was him because I was familiar with it?"

He nodded, but this time slowly and with less certainty.

"Well, anyway," I shrugged, "I guess it really doesn't matter anyway. If he was there… he didn't want to talk to us."

"So was there ever anything between you two?" Lester asked as Tank and Bobby piled back into the van.

"What's up?" Bobby looked between us, "anything between who-two?"

"I just asked Steph if there was anything between her and Ranger," Lester said, his eyes not having left my face.

I shook my head, "nothing emotional."

"But something physical?"

"Yeah," I nodded, biting my lip slightly as I looked out the window. "Can you take me home?"

"You're telling us a different story to what the word on the street is," Lester said, throwing a meaningful glance at me, "Rumour has it you've been marked as Manoso's woman."

How could a man I'd not seen from for eighteen months have so much bearing on my life? How is it that he could be so powerful as to have 'marked' me, despite our not having spent more than a night together? "what does that mean?" I asked, quietly.

"Nobody's going to mess with you," Tank said quietly, "the partner of a Manoso is safe from everyone. Something happens to you, and the entire family is going to come down on whoever was responsible."

"But I'm still not safe enough to avoid a price on my head," I said dryly, "does that tell you something? Like; maybe the streets are wrong?"

Lester shook his head, "not on things like this, they're not."

"Maybe the streets are making things up, because neither Ranger nor I are talking," I said meaningfully. Lester and I had had this discussion many times before, when I was trying to educate him on gossip and how to pick the juicy stuff from the rest of it. I continued coolly, "Well, I'm telling you now," my tone hardening as I spoke, "there was and is nothing going on between Ranger and I. Clear?"


	4. Chapter Three

**Breaking the Rules**

**Chapter Three**

The next morning I slept in quite late, because I'd gotten home late the night before and was tired. Also, I had no need to be anywhere at a specific time because as a Bounty Hunter I could set my own hours. As a result, I was rudely awoken by my phone. It had to be the Intel room as I was late in reporting for the morning.

"Bloody fucking hell, Kevin!" I snapped down the phone, "can't a girl sleep in around here?"

"Stephanie-" It certainly wasn't Kevin, it was a woman, and an old one at that; her voice was slightly raspy. I was mildly surprised – the only people who ever call me are the guys, "can you meet me?"

"Who is this?" I asked suspiciously. The only people I ever got calls from were the RangeMan guys or Ella. None of my old friends _ever_ called me, at least, not since the whole Slayer fiasco.

"It's Eliza," she was whispering, "we met yesterday. I'll meet you at Pino's in twenty-five minutes." She hung up before I could say anything in reply.

In staring at the phone in amazement I wasted five minutes of my twenty five, but then everything clicked into place and I began to rush around getting dressed in my usual ass-kicking gear. If I was lucky, Eliza would have some information for me about where I could find Alan Bertini and perhaps a weakness that I could exploit to make the takedown a bit easier. I didn't like calling the RangeMan guys for help unless I absolutely had to, and although Bertini was a nasty guy, I was fairly confident I could handle him myself.

In my rushing around, I lost some of my usual organization, but despite that I did manage to leave my apartment with my hair at least respectable, my mascara on and my guns attached. It wasn't until I reached the crowded lot, however, that I realized how disorganized I really was. It was lunchtime and I had slept through the _entire_ morning, and I hadn't accounted for the lunch-time rush at the popular restaurant. The parking lot was too crowded for me to find a car park, so I had to park about a kilometre out. As I walked the kilometre to Pino's, I called the Intel room to check in.

"Hey Steph," Kevin was on duty again and sounded, unsurprisingly, flat. It was his second shift in a week of eight – I could see how that would get you down; that was part of the reason I'd turned down Jesus' offer to work for RangeMan full time. "You're late this morning."

"Can't I sleep in?" I grumbled in false frustration but gave up after I heard his amused chuckle. The guys loved my not-morning-person-ness. I went for shock-factor instead; "I'm at Pino's. Do you want me to bring in lunch for you and the guys?"

There was a temporary silence of the line as the weight of what I'd said sunk in, "why are you at Pino's?" Kevin asked. It figured that would be his first question. One of the first rules the guys had instated (after you-must-take-care-of-yourself and you-must-run-everyday) was that I avoid places that I used to frequent, like Pinos because it was safer, both for myself and for the rest of the Burg.

"Bertini's woman called and arranged to meet me here," I said, "I think something's going on."

"Do you want backup? Cal and Hector are five minutes away."

"I'm fine," I said quietly, "has anything come in for me this morning?"

"Yeah," he fell silent for a moment and I could hear him tapping away at his computer as he pulled up a few files, "the Slayers are split evenly down the middle about what to do for you." he said, "and nothing has come up about your skips. Vinnie called, though, said you would lose your job if you didn't pick up the last two skips he's got. Do you want me to get one of the guys to do them?"

"I'll do the files if someone can get them from Vinnie's for me," I said after swearing a blue streak, "today I'm supposed to be working on the Slayer thing! I shouldn't have to do his dirty work! Why can't he chase down some of the skips himself?"

Kevin laughed, "because he's fat and has an unhealthy obsession for farm animals. What are your plans for the day?"

"I'll drop by the office with Pizza and then I might borrow the tech room to do a bit of background on my skips and the Slayer thing. But it's going to depend on my mood. What options are coming out of the SGM at the moment?" I asked.

SGM was my acronym for the Slayer's General Meeting, the outcome of which I was _desperate_ to know about. I took a few breaths as I waited for his reply, until finally he came back to me.

"A couple of them – the close friends of the ones you've already taken out – want to have all the rresources focused on taking you out. That one will never pass, there are too many more important things for the Slayers to do that they will need their resources for. The 'out-of-towners' – who had a bit of a grudge against the Trenton faction, want to stop wasting time and resources and perhaps bring you onside and do some work with you."

"Shit!" I exhaled, "Thanks Kev. What time is your shift over this morning?"

"It doesn't end!" he moaned, "I get off at six tonight," he was thoughtful, "hey, do you mind if I come round tonight?"

"Not at all. Should I rent a movie?"

"Raincheck on the movie," he laughed a deep rumbling laugh that sent a rush to my doodah.

"Damn!" I said over the phone, "I was looking forward to a good movie. You better make it up to me, Kev."

"How should I do that?" his voice became smooth like melted chocolate. Hmm, chocolate… "I want chocolate," I said snootily, "and maybe some cake."

"I'll talk to Ella, and see what I can do," he said, his voice back to normal, "so, seven at your place? I'll need to pick up a change of clothes before I come round."

"Do you remember Tank's face?" I laughed. Kevin and I had a friends-with-benefits relationship and our first time together, Kevin hadn't had a chance to go home and change before he had to be at work the next morning, so when we'd walked in together, and he was in the clothes he'd worn the day before, everyone knew _exactly_ what had happened. Tank had just stared at us in amazement and I think that was the first time I'd seen any _real_ emotion on his face.

I took the guys order for Pizza and hung up, looking forward to a relaxed evening that would, most likely, result in at least an orgasm – and I was beginning to feel the need for one of those. It was strange though, what an unexpected effect the absence of the two hottest guys in Trenton had done for my six life. I mean, when I was dating one and sort-of seeing the other, there was actually very little sex involved. Since neither have been around for a year and a half, my sex life has been fantastic; brilliant even. Of course, that's all it is; a sex-life. There are no real emotions involved, apart from friendship and mutual need.

Anyhow, back to Pino's; my favourite pizzeria since forever. I used to eat here at least six times a week (if not seven or eight). I knew the entire menu backwards, forwards, sideways and by smell, sight and taste. Unfortunately, I'd not been inside since my fiasco with the Slayers began. I knew my presence would cause a stir. You have to admit it's sad when the most unsurprising thing in your day is that everyone falls silent and glares at you when you enter your favourite restaurant.

There was a heavy police presence, and I recognized quite a few of them – as I had been good friends with most of them, and used to meet them here regularly for lunch - but I ignored them and sat down at a booth halfway down the back where I could see Eliza waiting for me. When I sat down she looked at me speculatively for a few minutes but didn't say a word. Instead she merely waved down a waitress to take our order.

I gave her the takeaway order and then ordered a salad for myself. Okay, so I know it's a sin not to eat at least a sub or a pizza at Pino's, but I'd just gotten out of bed and I'd be damned if I ate a sub or pizza for breakfast. Salad, on the other hand, I could handle. Eliza ordered a sub. The poor waitress was shaking nervously and stood at least five feet from our table, her eyes on me the whole time. Her whole demeanour showed me that she wanted to run away as fast as she could. After Eliza ordered, we dismissed her.

We didn't speak to each other until our drinks arrived and most of the attention of the room was elsewhere. In curiosity, I turned to Eliza and asked, "why did you want to meet me?" as I took a sip of my drink.

"I need you to kill me," she said. She was whispering and, for once, I was glad of it.

I sprayed my water across the table. Everyone turned to stare at me. I glared back at them until they turned back to their own tables and, hopefully, less _morbid_ conversations. Luckily I missed Eliza, "are you joking?" I hissed after I was sure that nobody was paying more attention than they usually would to me appearing in Pino's after an eighteen month absence.

"No," she shook her head, "kill me."

"Euthanasia isn't legal in the United States," I said coolly, unsure as to why she wanted to be killed and unsure as to why she would have come to me with such a request. It's not like I was particularly fond of using my gun. "why do you want me to kill you?"

"I don't want to live anymore," she said simply, as though it was the most matter-of-fact thing in the world. I stared at her in awestruck amazement, that things could have gotten so bad that someone wouldn't want to remain alive in the hopes of a better tomorrow. I've been shot, kidnapped, tortured and abused, my possessions have been bombed, exploded, stolen or otherwise destroyed and I have found dead bodies in my fridge, on my sofa and in my car – yet I still love _almost_ every day of my life.

I shook my head at her, "I need a better reason than that, to kill you, Eliza," I said, "life is too good to give away before you have to."

"You don't understand," she started to cry, "I'm always_ so _scared. I don't want to live if I'm scared every minute of every day."

"Scared?" okay, now she had my curiosity, "what are you afraid of?"

"Alan," she said. So, once again I am dragged into a situation involving my skip; if it wasn't possible to cut the tension between Eliza and I with a knife, I might have sighed or otherwise commented, but I figured that probably wouldn't go down too well. Her tears got much more pronounced and her mascara began to run.

I hate it when people cry. I never know what to give them or what to say to them to make it all better. "He locked me up." She said through her tears, "he drove me to a country villa and _locked me up_." Clearly Eliza had been brought up in the Burg; she didn't appreciate being tied down by a man – at least not with actual physical restraints.

"When was this?" I asked looking at her in concern.

"About six months ago," she gulped out, "I think that was when the police were looking into him. And I'm not the only one-"

"You're not the only one he locks up?" I looked at her.

"No," She shook her head, "He has these other women and… he brings them home and … they're just young girls and … he … and he rapes them," she was crying so hard that snot began to run down from her nose. I passed her a napkin and remained silent; experience had taught me that people were more likely to talk if you were quiet and didn't pressure them. I was right, she continued after a moment, "and if they say anything or when he wants to show them why they shouldn't say anything; he shows them what he'll do to them,"

Oh no! I did _not_ like where this was going, "what does he show them?" I prompted when she fell silent.

"He shows me to them," she whispered, her voice as silent as a grave, "he shows them what he'll do to them, by doing it to me." At this point she began to hyper-ventilate and I began to get concerned.

"Alright, Eliza, just take a deep breath in, and breathe out," I instructed, heaving in a breath with her, and out again. We repeated the motion several times. I shifted around to sit next to her, enfolding her in my arms and trying to comfort her.

When she calmed down, we turned back to our food and ate slowly. After a few minutes, I looked at her, "I'm still not going to kill you, Eliza," I informed her. She looked at me and then stood up, her hand reaching to drop a twenty on the table and leave.

I grabbed her hand, "Sit down!" I snapped commandingly. When I saw I had her attention, I continued "I'm not keen to do time, but I may have _another_ way around the situation."

Eliza sat down "how can you help? I don't understand."

"I can give you a safe place to live," I replied, "where you will be protected around the clock until Bertini is locked up for good. You have to promise me to testify, though," I said warningly, "and when it is all over, I'll speak to a friend and have you put through a witness protection program so that he'll never be able to find you if he gets out of jail."

She looked at me, stunned, "But, I-"

"It's a good option," I said calmly, not letting her express her concerns, "and you can come with me now and never have to see him again, if you'd like."

"But," she looked like she was about to start crying and in a brief flashback to moments when people were trying to force things like a safe house on me, I recognized part of her problem.

"You won't be a burden," I was firm, "You are free to do whatever you'd like, but if you want to get back into a semblance of something normal, I have a friend who could use a hand at work."

She studied me for a moment and then nodded tentatively, "alright," she said.

When my takeout order arrived, we paid and left.

Sitting in my car I thought for a moment and then pulled out the phone to call the Intel room.

"Hey, Steph!" It was Kevin again and he was clearly much more enthusiastic than last time I'd spoken to him – probably because I had pizza – "where are my pizza's?" he demanded and I grinned to myself.

"They're on the way," I said, "but I'm going to need clearance to bring a visitor up to the conference room," I said "and I need a word with Jesus. Is he in, today?"

"No," Kevin was intrigued, I could tell, "he's gone fishing. I can call him if you'd like?"

"It's fine," I said, "I'll call later. Can you ask Ella to open an apartment for my friend?"

"Steph, you know-"

"I know it's not policy," I interrupted him, "but this is really serious. I'll explain when I get there. I just need somewhere safe for her to stay."

"That's not what I wanted to say," clearly Kevin was amused at my ability to jump to conclusions, "what I was _going_ to say was that it normally wouldn't be a problem, except all the free apartments have been declared occupied by the computer; which would suggest that there's a whole bundle of people arriving within the next… forty-eight hours, or so."

"Shit," I grumbled, "that would happen today!"

"Who needs a place?" he asked after a moment, "perhaps Ella will lend her guestroom?"

"I'm about to ask Ella if she wanted any help in the kitchen," I said wryly. I had been driving for about ten minutes and was coming up to the garage, "you know what she's like."

"If it's for a good cause," Kevin replied, with a fond smile evident in her voice "she'll be honoured." All the guys loved Ella, she was the mother-away-from-home. Everyone knew that if you put one foot out of line, she'd come down on you like a tonne of bricks; it didn't matter how senior you were – in fact the only person I'd not seen her do it to, was Ranger, but the guys spoke fondly of seeing him taken down a few pegs by her in a pent up fury.

"We'll see." I wasn't placing bets yet; she and I were close but I never counted on a favour from her. I was hoping, however, that she would understand where I was coming from in this situation, "Can you send someone downstairs to pick up the pizza? We'll be up in five." I disconnected.

Eliza was looking nervous, "if this is too much trouble, I'll-"

"No!" I said firmly, looking at her in amazement, "this isn't too much trouble. I just didn't realize they were having visitors. So we may have to change the plan slightly, but Ella is _definitely_ going to need an extra pair of hands, now. No, there's plenty here for you!" I smiled encouragingly, "now let's go upstairs and feed the troops."

She climbed out of the car, looking mildly worried, and when Tank appeared at the lift she turned positively pale, "who's that?" she whispered to me.

"That's Tank," I said with a smile, "he's a good friend of mine. Tank, this is Eliza," I introduced them, "Eliza, don't let his appearance fool you; he's a big teddy bear, really. Hell, most of the guys you meet today will be. I need you to trust me that they're alright, okay?"

She nodded nervously and I saw Tank's eyebrow lift as he registered the way she leaned closer to me and twitched if he moved a muscle. I shook my head minutely as a silent signal _not_ to say anything about it until later when I would explain, once we were alone.

The three of us climbed back into the lift, each carrying a couple of pizza boxes, and made our way up to the first floor, where there was a conference room and I was confident Eliza could sit quietly while I talked to Ella about her. Tank must have sensed that he was going to need to get Eliza comfortable around her and started asking her a few questions.

"Are you from the Burg?" he asked, keeping his face friendly and his tone light.

She nodded nervously and glanced at me as if asking for approval or assistance. I smiled reassuringly and she said quietly, "I live just down the road from Stephanie's parents."

"I know the area," he smiled, "I've spent many a day rescuing Steph or a friend of mine from her grandmother."

This frankness startled a laugh out of her and she seemed more relaxed as we stepped out of the lift and into the conference room.

"Thanks, Tank," I whispered into his ear as I walked past.

He merely nodded to me.

The conference room was full of guys waiting for their pizza. All but Kevin looked at me in surprise when they saw Eliza. I waited until Pizza's had been distributed and then introduced her, "This is Eliza," I said quietly, "She's having a little trouble at the moment that I'm helping her with."

The room echoed with masculine greetings and she smiled nervously and then lifted her chin in true 'Burg style, "Afternoon, Gentlemen," she acknowledged them confidently. I smiled at the amused reactions that went around the room, she was going to be good. The greetings was a sort of test that the guys used to determine where you stood; usually they only tried it with women. If you weren't too intimidated by a bunch of big ex-army guys in one room, they figured you were alright.

"Oh! Stephanie!" Ella appeared behind me and I turned and greeted her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "I didn't know you were going to be here! And you've brought a visitor! How lovely, I'm Ella, and you are?" I wasn't sure if she took a breath throughout that entire speech.

Eliza beamed at a person she could relate to and I understood. I too had been very relieved at the homeliness that Ella projected and the familiarity and comfort she provided so naturally. Ella always made you feel at home. Unless, of course, she was chewing you out, in which case she was far scarier than your own mother "I'm Eliza Bertini," she replied to Ella and stepped forward to shake her hands.

Many of the guys looked up in shock at the surname and I was surprised, it was the first time she'd used it in public. There were a few speculative glances thrown both at Eliza and at myself. I smiled mysteriously, and Eliza ignored them.

"Lovely to meet you, dear!" Ella smiled, "did you want to talk to me, Stephanie?"

"Yes, do you have a moment?"

"Of course."

We stepped out of the conference room after I glanced at Eliza and she nodded that she would be alright. Tank stepped forwards with a reassuring glance at me that he would look after her, and she smiled at him sensing that he was safe.

"How can I help you?" Ella asked.

"Eliza's husband is one of my skips," I said quietly, "and he's been abusing her emotionally, physically and sexually. I offered her a safe place to live if she agrees to testify, and entry into the Witness Protection Program when it is all finished."

"She can have my guest room," Ella said, pre-empting my question, "and she's welcome to work with me as well. Since we've got all these people apparently arriving in the next few days, I'm going to need an extra pair of hands and I'm sure she's adept – she _is_ from the Burg, isn't she?"

I understood this question; there was a big difference between living in the Burg and having grown up in the Burg. If you had grown up in the Burg, it was assumed that you had all the basic skills necessary to take care of a home; cooking, cleaning and generally keeping house. Living in the Burg didn't guarantee that sort of thing. I was the only woman in the last fifty years who had grown up in the Burg and didn't really know how to take care of herself and a husband, domestically.

I nodded, "yes. She lives near my parents."

"Lovely!" Ella beamed, "If you like, I'll take her upstairs now and give her the tour – does she have any things?"

I shook my head, "no, I didn't want to take her back to her house. After I get Alan Bertini back into the system I'll take her over there to pick things up, but until then she'll need new things."

Ella was silent a moment and then I thought about it and rustled through my pocketbook, and selected a credit card, "Take her shopping with this," I said quietly, "it's got a large limit and I don't use it very often. I'm happy to pick up the bill."

She nodded, "Is Alan Bertini the one in the newspapers?" she asked quietly, "the rapist?"

"Yes," I responded simply.

"Come on then," she said, accepting the statement for what it was, "let's go back in there and rescue the poor lady."

I laughed and we pushed open the door to find her standing in a corner, with Tank talking to her quietly, trying to persuade her to come out of the corner. None of the others had noticed that she'd shrunk into the corner. When I heard the topic of conversation, however, even _I_ blanched and exchanged a glance with Ella who looked at me determinedly, "You get her out of that corner," she said fiercely, "and take her upstairs while I deal with this lot!"

I nodded, those were instructions I could deal with.

Tank looked up as he sensed me walking towards him and I saw the relief in his eyes. "They wouldn't stop," he shook his head, motioning towards the guys, "and I can't persuade her that everything is alright!"

"Can you help Ella settle them down?" I sent him over to the other guys and then turned my full attention to Eliza.

"Eliza," I said soothingly, as though I was talking to a small child, "look at me, Eliza. Come on, look at me," I could see that she heard me but there was some reflex preventing her from doing as I instructed. I continued to talk to her quietly, "look at me, Eliza. Look at me. I'm your friend, remember, we had pizza this morning. And now you're going to live with a friend of mine, so just relax and look at me. Come on, I promise you'll feel better when you look at me."

She finally looked at me and I saw the glaze over her eyes start to fade. "Stephanie?!" she whispered, "I'm so scared. I'm scared all the time!"

"It's alright, Eliza," I comforted her, holding out my arms, "I know what you mean. It's going to get better. I promise."

She collapsed into my arms, shaking and sobbing. I rubbed her back soothingly and let her cry. Finally I lifted her up into my arms - and it wasn't particularly difficult either, she must have barely weighed fifty pounds – and carried her out of the conference room, aware of the gazes of all the guys. As I walked I continued to soothe her.

In Ella's apartment I let her down on the guest-room bed, which was always made up – Ella had been brought up in the Burg, was a conclusion I'd reached months ago; she was _always_ prepared. Eliza just lay there and sobbed, her arms holding mine tightly. I waited with her until she fell asleep and then cautiously detached myself from her without waking her up.

When I left the room, Ella was waiting outside. "Call me when she wakes up," I instructed her.

She nodded, "is there anything I need to be careful about?"

"Just give her something to do, and don't leave her alone with the guys."


	5. Chapter Four

**Breaking the Rules**

**Chapter Four**

I made my way back to the conference room, trusting that Ella would be able to take care of Eliza for me. I had faith that she would do a good job – not only was she a trained counsellor, but she'd helped me through a few difficult moments of my own and I'd seen her work with some of the guys. She was very capable of dealing with emotional trauma.

Recently I have become quite adept at controlling my emotions and remaining on top of them at all times. As I got near the conference room, though, my temper boiled over and I strode in angrily, the door bouncing against the wall loudly. Everyone fell silent and stared at me.

"What the fuck was going on in here!?" I snapped in fury, my eyes scanning the room, "I credited you all with intelligence – was I wrong to do so? Surely you picked up on her surname! Surely the name _Bertini_ must have twigged? He's only a serial rapist who featured on the front page of the newspapers for a month." I took a deep breath, and then another one before continuing in a more serene voice, "I know some of you have trouble reading a few simple words, but I thought you'd at least have the common sense to see that she wasn't comfortable!"

"She didn't seem to have an issue," one of the guys piped up from somewhere in the middle of the huddle.

"You obviously didn't see her when she was hiding in the corner, scared you were all going to gang-rape her, or something!" I hissed, my eyes flashing in anger.

"So, what's the deal with her anyway?" Eric stepped forwards, confronting me directly. Out of all the RangeMen guys, Eric was the one I didn't like the most. Don't get me wrong, I trusted him, but we didn't get along – he didn't like working with an inexperienced _woman_ and I didn't like working with an arrogant jerk; it left us on a pretty even footing. The guys placed bets on when our confrontation would come to a head; the few times I'd ended up scrapping with Eric, one of us had been drunk, so the encounter didn't count.

"She will be testifying against Bertini," I said coolly, "after he locked her up in the mountains when the police were sniffing about in his affairs. She will be staying with Ella until further notice and is to be treated with the utmost respect. You will all behave like you actually have some manners when she is around and you won't crowd her, you won't do anything to frighten her and you will do everything in your power to prevent Bertini getting his hands on her."

I watched them for a moment, and felt like I should add something along the lines of 'is that clear?' but decided it probably wasn't appropriate.

"Why should we?" It was Eric, again.

I saw a few of the guys roll their eyes at each other as if to say, 'here we go again'. It was true that Eric confronted me every time I made a decision – he never agreed and he never wanted to go along with them. I figured he was just being antagonistic. What he was, though, was a cocky-son-of-a-bitch who hated backing down; especially to a woman.

Meeting his eyes I replied softly, "because if you don't, I'll hunt you down and punish you appropriately. You might think I'm just a teddy bear, Eric, but I'm warning you; hurt her in anyway and you will wish you were never born."

"Are you _threatening_ me?" Eric looked incredulous.

I studied my nails innocently, and borrowed a line I'd heard before, "I don't make threats; I make promises."

This sort of situation had never come up with me before. I had never made a promise of this sort and never in such a threatening manner. I was usually quite happy to let the guys do their thing, while I did mine.

"She's one of yours, then," Bobby said matter-of-factly. He had always been insightful, seeing to the heart of things immediately.

When he said she was one of mine, he meant that she was part of my 'pack' – the group of people I would do _anything_ to protect, no matter what. It was like the way I used to have a sort of protection from Ranger; I could have walked down various dangerous areas of Trenton absolutely buck-naked, and nobody would have touched me; simply because I was 'his'.

"Yeah," I nodded, "she's one of mine."

"Is there anything we need to be aware of?" Lester looked at me, concern apparent on his face. I had never brought someone in before today – not in this sense.

I looked at him and saw the silent support in his face. I nodded, "she's been abused. Badly – emotionally, physically, sexually ; by Bertini. Don't avoid her, but don't over-testosterone-ize her, either."

I spent the rest of the day in the tech room researching Bertini and the other skips that I had, and trying to find out what was going on in Slayerland. At six, though, I headed up to the Intel room to talk to Kevin, "I'm going home," I said, "I'll meet you there in an hour or so?"

"Sure. What do you want for dinner?" Kevin always brought dinner when he came around because although I was capable of doing my shopping alone, now, I didn't go very often and he could never _guarantee_ that there would be edible food in my cupboards.

"Salad or something," I shrugged.

On my way home, I thought about our relationship. When I'd first met Kevin, he'd been incorrigible – he wanted in my pants – and not much had changed. I guess what _had_ changed was me. Somewhere along the line, I realized that although I was looking for a long-term relationship that involved commitment, there was no reason why I couldn't have a sexual relationship that _didn't _involve any sort of commitment. There was no reason _not_ to have sex when I wanted or needed it. At various points in the last eighteen months, Kevin had offered me a commitment free way to satisfy my needs.

It wasn't a regular thing; it wasn't even a committed sexual relationship. Whenever he needed it, or I needed it, we just indulged one another. I was surprised that _he'd_ instigated this one, because I was fairly sure he'd been trying out the commitment thing with some woman he thought he was in love with.

I arrived home at half-past six. I had moved from my apartment in the outer suburbs, to an inner-city house. It was small, but comfortable. Very few people knew where it was and I had discovered that I _liked_ not having people breaking in to my home every few days, and I _liked _being comfortable that I was safe from intruders. It had meant that I had more in-traffic driving to do and that it took me a good twenty minutes to get home – longer if it was peak hour.

It had been an emotional day – to say the least – and I was tired, so I grabbed a beer and sat down on my sofa, reaching for the remote control so that I could catch the news. At that moment, however, my cell phone rang. I rose, and manoeuvred my way towards my pocketbook, which I had left by the door.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice short and curt – I did not want to have to cancel _anything_ I had planned for the night. I walked back to the sofa, with the phone to my ear.

"Is Stephanie Plum there?" a male voice asked. It was a familiar voice, although the exact placement escaped me. I recognized the intonation and the voice itself – but I could place who it was.

"Speaking," I replied crisply, "Who is this?"

"Cupcake, it's me. Joe."

I dropped the phone. It's very rare for me to lost control over my emotions, but I think the return of my ex-fiance, Joseph Anthony Morelli, was an excusable reason. I took a few deep breaths and picked it up again, "Joe!" I said, keeping my voice light and cheery, "How nice of you to call! I wasn't expecting to hear from you!"

"I'm back in town," he said, "can we catch up at Pino's?" I think he must have picked up on the frosty undertones, because he was almost cajoling.

"Woah," I said, my voice dropping to a cooler tone at his request. I couldn't believe he expected me to just drop everything to catch up with him now that he'd condescended to return to Trenton. "What are you talking about?"

"I want to catch up with you," he said as though talking to an idiot, "I'm saying you should come to Pino's, since you don't live in your apartment anymore and I don't know where you live now."

"How long have you been back?" I demanded, somewhat curious as to how long it had taken him to get around to calling me.

"I just got in this morning." He said, "are you coming to Pino's?"

"I'm busy tonight." Not to mention I needed time to come to terms with him being back in town, before I saw him again.

"How about lunch tomorrow?" he said. I wondered at the urgency he was projecting into his voice. Mostly, though, I wondered where he'd been and why he'd not called _once_ in the last eighteen months.

"Where and when?" I sighed. It was always easier to just agree with Joe and then go from there.

"Pino's, twelve o'clock." He said shortly. I wondered if he was deaf, dumb and blind, because if he'd been back for twelve hours – give or take a few – then surely he would have been aware that I couldn't possibly go to Pino's. Hell, I had taken a huge risk going to Pino's this morning, but I was glad I had – for Eliza's sake.

"I can't go to Pino's," I said resolutely, "How's Shorty's?" Over the last year and a half, I'd developed a great appreciation for Shortys. Although I still didn't know whether the stains were blood or ketchup, I did know that I was safe if I was there. Shorty's was owned by an ex-RangeMan and he looked out for all the RangeMan crew – Tank had introduced me and explained that if I wanted discretion and security, that Shorty's was the place to go. It struck me that I would want a discussion with Morelli to be on _my_ turf rather than his – and that's what Pino's had become, cop land – with people _I_ trusted around me.

"Is Manoso going to be there?" he sounded resigned. I could see why he'd asked such a question, considering every other time he'd been to Shorty's it had been at the request of Ranger and he'd been hemmed in by RangeMen.

"I wouldn't have a clue," I replied, mildly surprised that he wasn't aware that Ranger was out of town. I was also slightly offended by the assumption that I would only choose the place if Ranger was going to be there.

"Okay," he agreed, "Shorty's at twelve. See you later, Cupcake."

"My name is Stephanie," I said shortly, hanging up before he could say anything.

My doorbell rang as I hung up. I put my phone down beside my beer and stood up, grumbling about never getting a moment to myself as I walked over to the door. My hand rested on a gun at my waist as I checked the peephole. Kevin was standing outside and he had chinese takeout in his hands. I unlocked the deadbolt and removed the chain, letting him in.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, holding out one bag of takeout for me.

I shook my head, "not yet. Maybe I'll eat a bit later." My mind was still back on the phone conversation with Morelli.

"What's the matter?" Kevin looked concerned, clearly my muddled thoughts must have surfaced on my face.

"I just got a strange phone call," I said after a moment.

"Is it something we need to worry about?" Kevin slipped into work mode straight away. Occasionally I had abusive and threatening phone calls from old skips who'd been released from jail, or from the assassin-du-jour. The guys had been very good at working out who exactly it had come from and what we should do about it.

I shook my head in reply to Kevin's question, "Morelli is back in town," I said quietly, "he called."

"Oh," Kevin put an arm around my shoulder, "well that would explain why you're not hungry. I wonder what brought him back? Do you want me to trace it, now?"

"No," I shook my head again, "I didn't want to know back then, and I don't want to know now. If he tells me himself… that's a different matter."

Kevin nodded, preparing his own dinner – sweet and sour chicken with fried rice. I smiled, he was going to regret that when Jesus found out about it in the morning. Wednesday was workout day. They didn't do _any _work, just spent the day working on skills. It was one of my favourite days and I often went along for extra practice.

"So what are you going to do about it?" Kevin asked, looking up at me as I started to pace, "are you going to shoot him, because shooting cops is not the smartest thing you can do."

"Thanks." I said dryly, "I'll keep that in mind."

"Maybe you should pull a gun though," Kevin was thoughtful, "he probably doesn't think you've got the guts to shoot him."

"Isn't that threatening an officer?" I asked, "and thus, illegal?"

"Oh, yeah," Kevin laughed, "I forgot about that."

"Why are you here, Kev?" I asked.

"Because you said I could come over," he looked confused, "am I missing something?"

"No," I shook my head, "I think I am. Aren't you seeing someone? And thus trying out the commitment thing?"

"Oh!" he looked at me in surprise, "yeah, I am. I just… I have _needs_, you know."

"Sure," I nodded, "but if you're trying to be committed and monogamous, I'm the wrong person to be coming to. If you really want it to work, you have to go to _her_ when you've got these needs." I said.

He nodded looking depressed, "She's out of town for the night, though."

"So you have to suffer," I shrugged. "Everyone does at some stage. It's part of a relationship."

"Yeah, well, relationships suck!"

Tell me something I _don't _know.

"Now you're just being childish," I shook my head, "come on. We'll eat and then we can sit and watch a movie."

"Not Ghostbusters! Please! Not Ghostbusters!" he held up his hands in mock surrender, "I _hate_ that movie."

"Alright," I was being agreeable, for once, "we'll watch something else. But while we eat, you can tell me about whatever is going on at RangeMan at the moment."

"Uh," he couldn't look me in the eye, "I can't actually talk about that," he was looking everywhere but at my face, "company security and all."

I rolled my eyes, "fine. But how many people are coming?"

Normally, company security would not have mattered with me, so the fact that he was wary about it suggested that something _big_ was happening. I was guessing that Ranger and co were coming back to town.

"About eight," he sighed, "we don't know when they're getting here though."

We turned the conversation to other things – things that we could discuss without worrying about company security or various other concerns. After he finished eating, we grabbed out beers and sat down on the sofa to watch GI Jane, which was my 'I can do it' movie. I mean, despite everyone conspiring against her, Demi comes through and proves herself to be a true member of the elite. I think Kevin likes watching movies like this because he gets to see Demi in some pretty skimpy clothing.

I dozed off, cuddled in beside Kevin, thoroughly relaxed and at ease.


	6. Chapter Five

**Breaking The Rules**

**Chapter Five**

Shorty's was a restaurant where I was well known. It was also one of the few public places where I was safe. When I arrived at a quarter past twelve, I knew I was late and I knew Joe Morelli had been sitting there waiting for a good half an hour. This, I knew, because Shorty had called Tank to let _him_ know, and Tank had called me.

Because of the image I was trying to project to Morelli, I was wearing a pair of loose-fitting black cargo pants which sat on my hips with plenty of pockets, and a tight fitting top which accentuated all my curves. It stopped just below my naval and there was about ten centimetres of exposed flesh. The weight I'd lost was clearly apparent from my visible pelvic bones and the six pack I sported. Hooked through my pants was my heavy-duty belt which carried two pairs of cuffs, a glock, my S & W, pepper spray and a knife. Although not clear to the untrained eye, I also had a knife holstered to my right ankle and another gun holstered to my left.

I breezed into the restaurant, ignoring the general reaction I elicited from the mostly-male inhabited room, waved to Shorty and headed to the corner. Once everyone recognized me, they all turned away and ignored me and my companion.

"Morelli," I nodded to him.

He looked good. The last eighteen months had not seen him struggling too hard. His body was still as toned as ever and, I was assuming, his ass was just as cute. He was wearing jeans and a polo, however, and very clearly _didn't_ fit in to his surroundings – the glock he carried on his waist looked unnatural and unusual, not to mention he made no effort to hide it. I could see how much of a concession it had been for him to meet me here, where he was very clearly uncomfortable.

"You're carrying a lot of hardware," he commented, "Are you sure this place is safe?" he asked, ignoring my greeting.

I understood why he was asking. Eighteen months ago, I would have been very tense about visiting Shorty's. There was a definite ambiance that was not one of peace and pleasant socialising. Some of the stains on the floor and walls I was unsure as to whether or not they were blood, or just ketchup. Some of them, though, I knew about. The reason I'd chosen the restaurant, however, was that it was safe. The Slayers weren't going to move on me here – not in RangeMan turf – because to all intents and purposes, RangeMan was as good as a street gang and would take revenge.

I nodded, "I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. Have you ordered?" I waved one of the waitresses over, "I'll have the usual thanks, Carmen."

Whenever I needed pizza, this is where I came, and Shorty had made sure I knew and was comfortable with all his staff. Carmen was my usual waitress and I was one of the few customers she spared a smile. There ain't much to smile about at this end of town.

"No worries, Steph," she smiled at me, "and your friend?"

"What's good, Cupcake?" Joe leered at me.

I rolled my eyes, "He'll have the same," I said, firmly.

She nodded and left.

"You're on first name terms with the staff here?" Joe asked, "I didn't think this was your kind of place."

"Things change, Joe. Why did you want to meet me?"

"I wanted to catch up," he shrugged, "it's been a while," he flashed me one of those butter-wouldn't-melt-in-your-mouth grins that used to send my knees shaking. Well, not any more.

"A while?!" I hissed, "it's been eighteen _months_, Joe. Eighteen months not knowing whether you were alive or dead. Eighteen months without a word from you! Eighteen months is hugely different to six weeks, or two months. This is above and beyond all your other 'houdini acts'." I was very unimpressed.

"What do you mean, you didn't know if I was alive, or not?" he looked at me confused "My mother was supposed to keep you updated!"

"Did you ever think that maybe your fiancé should come _before_ your mother?" I asked, "and that maybe your mother didn't like me enough to let me know?" I shook my head, "she wouldn't tell me anything, Joe," I said quietly.

"She wouldn't?" Joe looked surprised.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," I shrugged.

"Yes," he grabbed my hand in his and started to play with my fingers, "it does matter. You were the most important person in my life; I was going to marry you. Why wouldn't she tell you if I was alive or dead?"

"Have you been living in a hole or something?" I sneered. Surely one of the guys at the station had filled him in on why I wasn't a smart person to be seen talking to.

"Why?"

Apparently not.

"You mean you _don't_ know about the Slayers?" It was my turn to be surprised. The Slayers had been such a major part of my life for so long that to have someone that _didn't_ know about my problems with them was quite a shock to my system.

"What's about them?" he looked at me strangely, "they were wiped out. Sally ran over them with a bus. Didn't he?" He looked at me, and my serious face and then began to shake his head. That was when I knew he'd started to guess where this was going because his words were almost wishful, "They lost interest in you, didn't they!"

I shook my head, "they want revenge, Joe," I whispered, "they've had a contract out on me for the whole time."

"But you're still alive," he continued to massage my hand, flashing me a reassuring smile, "surely that means they're not taking it too seriously."

"I don't think you understand," I shook my head, "just how much things have changed around here. Why don't you talk to some of your buddies for the station about it and _then_, if you still want to know me, you can call me and we'll talk about me." I took a deep, cleansing breath and looked at him, and then I took another breath. I waited a moment and then continued, "Where have you been, Joe?"

"The Feds called me to DC," He said quietly and then looked around, "shit, Steph. I don't want to talk about this here – it's not secure."

"Christ, Joe!" I exploded once more in a whispered fury, "this is the most secure place you're going to find. All of these people are loyal to me. None of them are eavesdropping on the conversation; they're not even _interested_ in what we're talking about. Nobody is going to hear about anything that goes on here! What more do you want for security?!"

Joseph Anthony Morelli was the _only_ person who could get me so riled up so easily. Probably it was to do with our history and a constant desire to provoke one another. When I was six, he had 'lured' me into the garage to play choo choo, which was a darn disappointing deal because I only got to be the tunnel. Ten years later, he charmed the pants off me behind the éclair case at the local Tasty Pastry, five minutes after closing. He wrote about that on the wall at Mario's and the Stadium and then disappeared to the navy for a few years. The next time I saw him, I ran him over with my uncle Sandor's '53 Buick – I still say he was lucky I didn't back over him, repeatedly. Anyway, a good ten years further on and he re-enters my life. I had just taken up Bounty Hunting and he was my first skip. A rogue cop accused of murdering someone.

That particular episode in our relationship reached its climax when he cuffed my to my shower rod, naked. A year later (he'd been declared innocent and gone back to work) I moved into his house after a stalker firebombed my apartment. That's about when we got together properly. Things took an on-again-off-again tone shortly after that when he disappeared for a few months on an operation for the Feds. They took a decidedly _off again_ tone when I heard rumours about him and Terri Gilman, and he heard rumours about me and R.C. Manoso. During the Slayer fiasco, things didn't change much, although he didn't like my approach to staying safe and then he disappeared for _eighteen _months.

"You can't guarantee any of that," he looked at me reproachfully, "You can't guarantee that this place is as secure as you say it is." His face was almost resigned, as if he thought I'd never learn. Little did he know.

"Yes, I can," I scowled, "because they know that if someone so much as _hints_ about what happens around me, I'll hunt that someone down and I'll put a bullet through their kneecaps."

"You talk as big as you used to," he shook his head, smirking in amusement, "it's a pity you can't actually carry through on your threats."

I let out a bark of laughter at that, "like I said, Joe, talk to your cop friends before you make statements like that – you might just find a few things have changed that you weren't aware of." I had had to make a few changes to my ethics and morals over the last eighteen months to guarantee that I hadn't had any problems with snatch. As I was once told, being taken down by snatch didn't really have a high prestige factor.

"Cupcake," he looked pained, "I can't talk about my op here. It really isn't secure."

I shook my head and stood up, "Carmen, make my order to go," I called out, turning back to Joe, "well then, I guess we've got nothing to talk about, Detective Morelli. Don't call me until you're prepared to talk and you know what's been going on over the last eighteen months," I thought about it, "and you probably want to get two perspectives. Try some of the Slayers in your cells."

I gave Carmen a twenty to pay for both our meals, and left with mine in a takeout bag. I didn't glance back once but I felt Morelli's eyes follow me out of the restaurant. I slipped into my car – a Porsche Carrera GT, in Black to match my outfit – and drove towards the Rangeman building.

Today was Wednesday, training day for the RangeMan guys. If an op was scheduled for Wednesday, it was vitally important and there were no other alternatives. Continuing to train throughout the year was a major part of RangeMan's day-to-day work – the guys had to remain strong and practised in order to be as good as they were, and hence as safe. Wednesday morning was reserved for fitness, while the afternoon was reserved solely for tossing each other over the mats and ensuring that none of them had lost their skills. I liked to go along for the extra training and practice that it allowed me, as well as the ability to practice my skills on people with experience and size in their favour. I wasn't better than many of them, but I _was_ able to give them a run for their money, and that was what I wanted to be able to do. They had far more training than I did, and there was no point in pushing my luck and trying to beat them – although actually winning the occasional bout was a huge adrenalin rush!

Today, in particular, it was important that I stopped by Rangeman. I wanted to find out who had moved into all the apartments and how Eliza was doing – Kevin had promised to get her a security clearance as soon as possible to prevent any issues arising and I was hoping that Ella would have been able to settle her down and keep her occupied.

I was going to be later than I expected however, because when I got about fifty metres from Shorty's, I glanced in my rear-view and recognized Joe's car tailing me, about five cars back. I ignored him at first, but took a more round-a-bout route to determine whether he was actually tailing me, or if our paths had merely been the same.

He was tailing me, naturally.

I began to weave in and out of traffic rapidly after I got to the office, taking rapid turns to the left and the right, extending the number of cars between us until finally I lost him. I buzzed myself into the RangeMan garage and parked in my usual space. In the lift, my phone rang.

"Yes?"

"Heard you had a cop tailing you!" it was Lester, "you lose him?"

"It was Morelli," I said, distaste evident in my voice. "of course, I lost him."

"Morelli's back in town?" Lester sounded surprised.

"Yeah, why?"

"No, I'm just surprised," Lester replied, "There has been nothing come through the police files about him returning, that's all."

That _was_ a surprise, because usually those files had everything.

I shrugged, "yeah, well…"

"So, are you here for training?"

"I suppose I am," I nodded, smiling as I stepped out of the lift. Every move I made was captured on a security camera which was being screened in the Intel room. A backup tape was taken every day so that if anything ever happened within the building – not that that was likely, this place was like a fortress – they could see exactly who or what caused it.

"They're in the gym," Lester informed me as he disconnected.

It was strange that the guys were in the gym, considering they would normally have eaten lunch by this point and thus would be working at the gun range while their food settled. Either lunch had been excruciatingly early, or it hadn't happened yet – in which case I could eat my own food with them.

The guys stopped whatever they were doing when I walked in, and joined me upstairs for lunch. When I went to ask a question about what they'd been doing, Tank just shook his head at me, and I shut up. If they didn't want me to know, I didn't want to know.

But that meant they couldn't find out about my meeting with Morelli.

Eliza joined us for lunch and seemed at ease with Tank and Kevin, although some of the guys she wouldn't even look at. She said she was enjoying working with Ella and the two had been sharing recipes. She'd received a phone call from Bertini, though, which had scared her.

I promised her I'd call her as soon as I had him behind bars, so that she could feel safe again. I couldn't indicate a time frame, though, so when she asked I promised that I'd do it as soon as possible.

It was about halfway through the meal that I asked about the visitors and the SUV. Tank paled slightly and then said to me, "some of the Miami office is moving down here for a takedown."

"Okay," I nodded, mildly surprised at his reaction, "well, that's good to know."

The Miami office suggested Jesus' original idea that Ranger and, or, his family were returning was true. I was silent for a few moments at that thought and then asked bluntly, "is Ranger coming with them?"

"We're not aware of specifics," Tank looked at me pityingly, "but the seventh floor apartments _have_ been opened up."

So at least one member of the family was returning. Well, I guess it didn't really matter to me anyway. "Will they mind me using the facilities the way I do?" I asked.

"Probably not," Tank shook his head, "you're listed as a full employee, you know."

"What?"

"You were listed as that after you started doing jobs regularly. Didn't you ever get the acknowledgement letter?"

I shook my head, "the only thing I've had from RangeMan was a letter terminating my employment during the Ramos thing. Then that mysteriously disappeared," I rolled my eyes.

Tank just laughed at me.

After lunch, we all went to the gun range (well, Eliza didn't) to practice. I went through five boxes of bullets before I removed my earmuffs and summoned the target to me. Every single shot would have been fatal if it had been a real person – some went to the heart, some straight between the eyes. One went through each wrist. It's a little known fact that if you get someone at the wrist joint, there is no real way to stop the escape of blood and although it takes a slightly longer time for someone to die, they are incapacitated enough to not provide any real threat.

I folded up the target after dating it, and slipped it into my bag. I had started keeping my targets, so that I could see how I was improving. I had gotten really depressed after a skip shot me, so Tank brought out my target from when I was first beginning and got me a more recent one and showed me just how much I'd actually been improving.

Have I ever mentioned that I love Tank.

After the gun range, we headed down to the sub-basement – where the boys come out to play. Everyone was armed to the hilt with paint-ball guns and knives. It was time to track each other and take each other down. Usually the guys would work in pairs – with their partner.

I didn't have a partner, so I worked solo.

I hid behind a crate in the corner and checked that my gun was loaded – I was firing blue paint today. The first person I caught sight of was Tank and he was an easy target because he was still injured. I popped him in the chest and he shook his head. After that the battle was on. Having injured his partner, I had created a loose cannon out of Bobby – he no longer had to worry about the security of his partner.

Eric was hiding in the shadows not far from Bobby, however, and caught Bobby in the back. Not particularly courageous, but then Eric never really cared much for etiquette. Since I knew where Eric was, I fired off a couple of shots and took him down.

By that stage, the playing field was down to only three of us; Kevin, Lester and Myself. Lester and Kevin had taken care of the other eight people on the floor. I made a move from behind my crate and into the open. Lester and Kevin were partners, so I had to be careful with them as they were used to working with each other, and did so very well.

Someone's shirt was visible, as though they were standing beside a crate. I fired off a round and saw Lester step forward and sit down. Kevin and I both dropped out guns and moved into the centre of the room – it was tradition for the last two standing to scrap fit for the win. The only thing that wasn't allowed, was firearms.

I left my knife where it was – I really didn't like using it, unless I had to. Kevin followed my lead. We began to circle each other. "How was Morelli?" he asked.

"Good," I answered shortly as I sidestepped an attack.

"You look like you've just been fucked," he said, launching another one.

I countered with my own, and had him on the ground, staring at the roof as I answered, "well you weren't going to help me out, so I dealt with it myself."

He flipped himself upright and we began circling each other once again. He was attempting to ignore that cat calls of the guys. I was loving it. I always got an adrenalin rush from sparring with one of the guys.

"How's you're girlfriend?" I asked, "she know you wanted to cheat on her?" I chose that moment to launch a swift attack, throwing out a leg and sweeping it under his feet.

Unfortunately he was ready for it, and jumped out of the way, "nope," he answered, "why? Are you going to tell her?" This time he swept out his legs in an attempt to get mine out from under me. I dodged by moving forwards and launching a counter attack.

"If she asks," I answered, bringing an arm around at the same time as I kicked him. He fell to the ground and just sat there for a moment.

"You'd do that?" he asked as he stood up.

"She's a girl," I shrugged, "_generally_ we stick together."

"But I'm your friend," he looked truly mystified as we continued circling each other. The guys just kept cheering one or other of us on, ignoring the conversation unless the comments were too close to home.

"Yeah, but she's got more brains."

This got me a few hisses and Kevin a few 'are you going to let her get away with that?' comments.

"I don't know what she sees in you, anyway," I mused after a moment, my plan being to piss him off so that he lost control, "it's not like you're any good in bed."

There were lots of gasps at that, it was the first time I'd brought up sex with him in public. Kevin scowled at me, "you always seem to like it; 'oooh, Kevin, harder! More! Faster!'" he mocked, "I'm going to come, Kev. Kev, I'm coming! Aaagh!"

"I must be a really good actress, then," I said attacking him. His defense was solid, but I landed a good punch, "I suppose I _did_ have a lot of practice with Dickie, though."

"You were faking!" he was outraged. All the guys were laughing.

I smirked evilly, "hopefully your girl is with you for something other than the sex!"

He was really angry at that point and came flying towards me. I side-stepped, but he was prepared for it, his arm swinging out and catching me, pulling me into his chest. "Do you surrender?" he demanded.

I stamped my foot on his toes, elbowed him in the chest, and shoved my head back aggressively. As soon as I had room to move, I swung my legs out and round, toppling him to the ground. Unfortunately, I forgot to dodge his flailing arms and legs, and got taken down with him.

My head hit the ground and I saw stars for a moment before my vision went fuzzy. Don't get me wrong, I hadn't actually passed out; I could hear what was going on, but actually seeing it was another matter1111.

"I surrender," I said before he could put me in some kind of choke hold.

"Am I really that bad in bed?" he asked, his voice worried.

I didn't move as I answered, "No. I have no complaints, and as far as the bed department is concerned, your girl is lucky to have you."

"Are you going to get up?" he was, apparently, getting impatient.

"No."

"Why not?" Kev sounded like he was humouring me. I could just picture him standing there, tapping his feet impatiently.

"Because I can't see," I said, knowing that my eyes were open.

"You can't _see_?" he sounded incredulous.

"My vision's faded," I said irritably, "everything's black. My eyes aren't working. I Can't See! How many ways do you want me to put it?"

"Woah, calm down, Steph," he said, his hand touching mine, "Lester, call the medic down!"

Twenty minutes later I was comfortably ensconced in one of the sofa's in Ella's apartment. She and Eliza kept pottering around me doing their thing, chattering away to me. I just sat there and looked aimlessly around. According to the medic, it was just because the bump on the head had been at the wrong angle and had over-pressurized my brain. He was estimating that I would have my sight back within a few hours. I was to take it easy for the rest of the day, though.

I had, thus, agreed to taking Kevin's sofa for the night and spending the rest of the day at Ella's talking to Eliza and her.

1111 This has actually happened to me. Apparently the pressure that is temporarily placed on your brain causes you to lose one of your senses – at least that's the simplified version of what I actually understood of the doctor's explanation.


	7. Chapter Six

**Breaking the Rules**

**By Katherine**

According to my mentor, and one time lover, there was a Bounty Hunter Handbook that all Bounty Hunters were supposed to have read and would explain how to deal with all the awkward situations that they would find themselves in. Unfortunately, my copy appeared to have got lost in the mail so I was forced to improvise when I got into sticky situations. I make up the rules as I go, too.

Admittedly, I have a tendency to get into more 'sticky situations' than most, but I was getting better and better at dealing with them before anyone else got involved. So when I found myself the target of a gun fight during lunch on Thursday, I didn't start to panic, but rather dropped low to the ground and began to work out who was shooting me, where they were shooting me from and exactly how I was going to get out of the mess I was in. I tried to move to a more protected location where I could check my weaponry.

A gun had seemingly jumped into my hand as soon as I heard gunfire, it was a semi-automatic and an older weapon that I was comfortable with. I had my back pressed to a wall and sighted one of the men shooting me. I fired off three shots, and saw him fall. My attention shifted to the next. As far as I could tell, there were only three people trying to kill me, and that was almost safe by comparison to other gunfights that I'd been in.

I found it somewhat humorous that I could be so blasé about a gunfight like this, considering my Smith & Wesson .38 used to spend more time in my cookie jar than in my hands. Of course, it now spends more time in my gun locker than in my hands, but that's because it has been replaced by more powerful and more dangerous guns instead – not because I'm afraid of it anymore. In fact, if someone pointed an S & W at me, I'd probably laugh – it's a sissy gun. Oh, it's still a gun, and hence dangerous, but it's a sissy gun and no longer even worth my time.

Neither of the two men remaining could be easily spotted, but I caught a brief flash of light being reflected and fired off six rounds towards it, hearing a muted groan and then the guy staggered out from behind the car he'd been hiding behind, he started to fire towards me but as he'd become more obvious I put an easy bullet in his stomach and then started to turn my attention to the other man.

He chose that moment to start talking to me, "So, you think you're pretty good, huh?" he demanded, "you think you can take us all down?"

I didn't say anything; he was doing enough talking for the both of us, and my mind was entirely focused on locating him and taking him down. In my experience with psycho's, stalkers and assassins, they only talk when they're nervous and then they had a tendency to lose control of their movements.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" he called and I almost sniggered at the clichéd line that he used. It reminded me of a crappy movie. I didn't pay any more attention to him but rather took brief stock of my situation and reloaded my weapons.

I'd had more than my share of psycho's chasing me over the last few years and all of them had a similar list of lines that they could pull out in a situation like this. That this guy was even talking made me think that he wasn't professional, that this wasn't his 'day job' as it were and that he wasn't used to a situation like this one.

His talking was advantageous, I realized after barely a moment, to me because it gave me an indication of where he was. The car park did not have the acoustics to encourage an echo, so it was easy for me to work out roughly where he was, and then I began to move my way towards him so that I could find a clear shot. It took me a brief moment to move around to where I could see his feet. But the only way I was going to get a clear shot was if I made a target of myself and I had no real desire to do that. It looked like I had no choice, however, and I prepared to make the leap as the target began to talk again.

"Come on, honey, if you make it worth my while, maybe I won't kill you-"

"Bruce shut the fuck up!" another voice commanded.

I froze, apparently there was a fourth person in this situation. If there was _one_ that I'd not noticed, there could be plenty more. I shifted back to the shadows and decided to wait it out. Hopefully the inexperienced _Bruce_ would get bored and move to a spot from which I could make a shot without too much trouble. The other guy could prove more difficult to take down, but I had no doubt I could do it.

The new player had a controlled calm air about his voice which made me nervous. If he had been here the whole time and I'd not noticed him then I was in trouble – that required more than a modicum of skill. The control evident in his voice reminded me of the way Ranger and the RangeMen guys would act when on a job; there was no room for emotion and there was no room to screw up.

Patience has never been my strong suit. I was always the child who opened the Christmas presents before Christmas day. I was always the one who ate her dessert before her mains. I was impulsive and hated waiting. I got fidgety on surveillance jobs and got bored when I had no skips to take in. I hated waiting for someone with guns to make a move.

Luckily I didn't have to wait long, because about five minutes later Bruce stood up and said, "Fuck this!" and started firing bullets randomly. One ricocheted and clipped my leg, causing it to begin to bleed but it was nothing more than a small flesh wound and the bullet wasn't hydroshock so it didn't leave anything behind.

I didn't wait to hear the rest of his words, but fired off a round and clipped him four times – one in the head and three in the shoulders. He was most definitely dead. I ruthlessly suppressed the regret that blossomed through my heart at the thought, and focused my thoughts upon the mystery man who was still around.

He was clearly more skilled than the three incompetents he was working with, which made me nervous – although not uncontrollably so. Instead I began moving cautiously, trying to keep myself covered at all times and catch a glimpse of him. He wasn't making it easy for me, but then I liked to think the same could be said of me. I didn't waste my breath trying to reason with him; that would have done me about as much good as trying to stop a semi going downhill with my bare hands. Instead I just kept moving and out of sight.

Somewhat luckily, sirens became audible in the distance and several black SUVs pulled up outside the parking lot. I let Tank lead a team through the lot to ensure that the gunman had disappeared before I called him on my cell phone.

"A little busy right now," he said shortly when he answered.

"Is it safe to come out now?" I asked.

"You're here?" he was surprised and his whole posture stiffened.

I stood up and waved, but a bullet slammed into the back of my shoulder. It was lucky that I was wearing Kevlar. I dropped back to the ground cussing a blue streak.

Tank was still trying to talk to me but I disconnected and focused back onto the man who had shot me. I knew he was shooting from the back of the parking lot, he had fired only a single shot and quite accurately which meant that he was most likely a highly-skilled professional. I scowled slightly but then caught sight of him.

He was built; there was no doubt about it – he had a tanned muscular torso, sandy blonde hair and his eyes were differing colours; one a deep blue and the other an emerald green. I took all this in over an instant and then fired off a round, surprised he hadn't seen me.

I stood up after I was sure he was out, hissing out a breath at the pain lancing through my shoulder. Tank was racing towards my, his gun drawn. I glanced at him briefly and then pointed to the four locations where there were bodies. He quickly checked to see which were alive and called for an ambulance. I staggered towards the body of the last man I'd shot and flipped him over, "What's your name?" I demanded.

He just glared at me.

"What the fuck is your name?" I returned his glare, breaking it off after a moment to pat him down and empty his pockets. I grabbed his wallet and pocketed it as the police pulled up. I didn't wait around next to him, but made my way outside the lot and sat down on the ground and put my head in my hands as I took deep breaths and let the shakes run their course.

I was interrupted when a hand landed on my shoulder. I whirled around and stood up in a split second, pulling my gun out and flicking off the safety before I realized who it was. I recognized the man in front of my and flicked the safety back on, putting the gun back where it belonged.

"Have you got a licence for that, Cupcake?" Joe demanded.

I just looked at him like he was stupid, "would I carry it if I didn't?" I asked.

Getting a licence to carry concealed is far from easy, I had discovered, however when one is a bounty hunter and has reasonable connections it becomes slightly easier. Ironically it had been my ex-husband, Dickie Orr who had helped me get my licence and that was only after some serious blackmail. He had been screwing his secretary as well as his second wife and he didn't need another divorce as a result of infidelity. Thus, I had a licence for three of my guns which were good enough as I tended to carry only three at a time.

He didn't reply directly, just raised an eyebrow. I remained silent and kept the breathing thing going on.

"We'll take your statement later," he said, "you can come down to the station tomorrow."

I shrugged my agreement, there was no need to respond verbally. Instead I watched as all four of the men were loaded onto Guernseys and rushed to the hospital where they could be taken care of or declared dead. The police were canvassing the scene and had cordoned it off. RangeMan employees were talking to the cops, surveying the scene.

Tank, however, was talking to three people I didn't recognize. He was standing about a hundred metres away from me and motioning towards me regularly. I watched him for a moment and then shrugged internally, I needed to go home and have a shower.

I stood up, carefully ignoring the pain in my shoulder and took a few shaky steps. Then I straightened up and walked normally, wincing internally each time my shoulder got jolted. As I reached my car, however, Eddie stepped over to me and grabbed it. I hissed out a moan of agony and turned around, moving my shoulder out of his grasp. "What do you want, officer?" I asked politely.

He glanced briefly at his hands, surprised by the blood he saw on them, but then he straightened his spine and began his tirade, "What were you thinking, Plum?" he snapped at me, "You just killed four men!"

I didn't say anything, just stared at him quietly. I saw several of the RangeMan employees step beside me to face him. His face was closed and aggressive, the way it was when he was dealing with a perp; not one of his oldest friends, and I guess that was evidence enough of just how much he had changed.

"You know, Eddie," I said quietly, "I was prepared to give you more than the usual number of chances, as someone I once considered one of my best friends. I was prepared to let you get away with some things that nobody else could have gotten away with, but let me tell you know; this friendship is over." I looked heavily at him, my eyes flinty and cold.

Eddie and I had been friends since I was three. He'd been there to help me pick up the pieces every time something had gone wrong. He was the one who offered me a place to stay after Morelli wrote about me on the wall at the Stadium, and he was the one who paid for my gas after I gunned the Buick over the footpath to run him over. He was the one I turned to when my marriage failed and I saw Joyce and my husband playing hide-the-salami on _my_ dining room table. He was the one who ensured that nobody arrested me when I destroyed Dickie's house a week before the divorce.

In return, I supplied him with donuts and beer when his wife (my cousin) had him on another one of her fanatical diets. I didn't complain (too much) when he placed bets on the next exploding car, or the next time I'd find a dead body. Instead I let him claim his winnings and even gave him some juicy gossip to keep him in supply. He'd married my cousin which simply cemented what we already knew; he was family. Since the Slayer fiasco began, however, it was as though the ties that were once so strong no longer existed. I was, thus, surprised to see a flash of pain in his eyes at my pronouncement.

I ignored him and turned my back on the police. Four people were walking towards me in a diamond formation; three men and a woman. At the back was Tank, looking slightly panicked. The three others were the ones he'd been talking to earlier and I immediately identified them as family – all of them had similar features. The one at the front, I recognized upon closer inspection as Ranger – Henry Higgins to my Eliza Doolittle.

I stared at them in shock, my feet rooted to the ground. How long had he been back in town? As he approached, I could see his face was stormy – and the scary part was that I'd never seen so much emotion in his face at one time before. He grabbed my uninjured shoulder and whirled me around, "What the hell do you think you were doing?" he hissed furiously.

He hadn't changed much in the last eighteen months, the time had been kind to him. His body was as toned and muscular is it used to be, his skin as tanned and his hair just as long. His eyes were as demanding as they used to be – pleading silently for information. He was dressed in the attire I was used to seeing him wear, black combat boots and pants, black jacket hiding god-knows-how-many-weapons. I'd missed him, I'd admit it, but not now and not to him.

I peeled his hand off my shoulder and smiled sweetly at him, "Oh!" I gasped in mock surprise, "Hi, Ranger! I've been great, thanks for asking. How about you? Have you enjoyed Miami? It's great to have you back. Sorry to be rude, but I'm a little pressured at the moment." I turned and walked to my car and pull out my first aid kit, ignoring Rangers stunned gaze and the amused sniggers of the RangeMan crew. The two people with him I didn't know looked as stunned as Ranger did, and I assumed they must be his brother and sister, Mara and Diego.

The first thing I did was strip off my Kevlar and rip the shoulder off my shirt so that I could patch up the more serious of my two bullet wounds. Unfortunately the bullet had been armour-piercing and had broken the skin in my shoulder. On the flip side, I had been wearing reinforced Kevlar which was double-strength armour and thus it hadn't gone particularly far into my shoulder. Instead it was still sticking out of the shoulder and I could easily remove it. I did so, ignoring the wince that came from the onlookers. I threw the bullet to the ground and began to disinfect the wound.

An EMT from the second ambulance ambled over and tried to take over, but I slapped his hand away, "I'm fine," I said brusquely. I have always hated EMTs and I especially hated people touching my injuries. They always took your control away, strapped you to a Guernsey and took you to the hospital, leaving you no choice as to when you could or couldn't leave.

His hands returned again, and _again_ I swatted them away "Miss Plum," he said in mild frustration, "you have been shot!" he spoke as though I was an idiot.

I looked up at him, what was he stating the obvious for? "I am aware of that," I said quietly.

"You need medical care," he continued, treating me like an idiot. His hands reaching back to the wound.

I heard a whispered, "this should be good," from Tank. He had seen me deal with EMTs before and knew exactly how much I hated them.

"Which I am providing myself!" I replied as I selected a piece of Gauze and opened the package.

"Ma'am, you really do need to come down to the hospital," he tried to reason with me. Honestly, you'd think after this long, that they'd have learnt it's impossible to reason with Stephanie Plum.

"I know how to clean up a bullet wound," I said shortly. "I don't need an ape with an overgrown view of his own self-importance to show me! I've done it to myself enough times, so go and make yourself useful! Considering the statistics there is _bound_ to be someone else who needs your help.

"Ma'am, you are seriously _injured_!" he said.

"Nothing of the sort," I shook my head.

"You should really come to the hospital," he said.

I looked at him as I finished taping the wound. Finally I stood up, and let my pent up anger and frustration seep out a little. "I need to do nothing of the sort!" I snapped, "the last time I was in the hospital, I got an _extra _bullet wound to go with the one I was being treated for. Then I had to sit through hours of your bureaucratic _bullshit_ as you tried to work out who the fuck shot me and how they got into the hospital!"

"Ma'am, you're in shock!" he continued in his attempt to reason with me, obviously he'd missed the class on observation: I had taped up my wound, I was standing up and arguing with him and there were other people who had a greater need of his help.

"No," I shook my head, "I'm not. I don't have time to go into shock, so just leave me the fuck alone! I've done _exactly _what you would have done if I'd let you so let me just give myself the diagnosis that a doctor would give. 'Right, Ms. Plum, you look like you're fine. You should take it easy for the next few days and be careful of your shoulder it's likely to be stiff for the next few days." I smirked, "Of course, doctor, I'll take it easy." I rolled my eyes.

Obviously the moron was going to keep going, so I ignored him and turned around and bent down, quickly packing away my first aid kit and ignoring his continued mutterings. He tried to grab my wrist, but I slapped his hand away again – would this guy take a hint? I put the kit back into my car, walked over to Joe and asked sweetly, "are we all finished here, Officer Morelli?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "you need to come to the station to give your statement." He looked at me for a moment and I waited for whatever he was going to say, he shook his head, "he's a professional, Cupcake. Let him do his job."

"There's no need," I said quietly, "I can do it for myself."

At home I gave the bullet wounds a more thorough cleaning and put on a sports bra so that I could leave the shoulder one uncovered. Then I collapsed onto my sofa and let the shakes and the shock take over. When I had told the EMT that I didn't have time to go into shock, I'd only been partially telling the truth. I couldn't _afford_ to go into shock in such a public place. So I suppressed it ruthlessly until I was home and secure and able to let the shakes and the hot and cold flushes take over.

I shivered and sweated and shook uncontrollably for a solid twenty minutes, my mind replaying the incident over and over again. I cried over the lives that I'd taken and the blood that I had spilt.

When I was calm, however, I rose and took a shower before calling into the control room, where Kevin was on duty (again).

"Did you seriously smart off to the boss?!" he demanded as he picked up, "man, I would have _loved_ to see his face!"

"Hey Kev," I smiled, "Anything in about the Slayers General Meeting, yet?" I was hopeful, but far from expectant.

"No, nothing definite," he replied, "loads of speculation though. The four guys you took out today are from the extremists who want you dead, though."

"Who was the one who shot me?" I demanded, "he had skills, not like the others." I thought about it for a minute and then remembered the wallet I had pocketed. I grabbed it and began flicking through it while I listened to Kevin.

"Uhh, actually," Kevin coughed in amusement, "he was one of your skips."

"No, he wasn't," I shook my head.

"Well," Kev was clearly amused, "he's been positively ID'd with fingerprints as Stan Montero, and admitted to having undergone plastic surgery." I pulled out his drivers licence and realized he was being deadly serious and this guy really was my skip.

"You're joking?" I was beyond astonished, "So I made five grand today?" Not to mention the two hundred and fifty dollars in his wallet – although being such a nice girl I might return his wallet to him. And I'd managed to piss Vinnie off; or I would when I got him to fill out the forms. He _hated_ the paperwork that resulted from a death or injury, and that tended to happen a lot around me.

"Congratulations," Kevin acknowledged, "but I still wish I could have see- Oh! Hello Mr. Manoso," Kevin had clearly lowered to phone to talk to Ranger, "Is there something I can do for you, boss?"

"Kevin," Ranger acknowledged, then, "Who are you talking to?"

"Stephanie," Kevin answered, sounding worried, probably being caught gossiping when he was supposed to be working, "Why?"

"Hand me the phone," Ranger commanded, "Babe?"

I didn't say anything for a moment and then inputted quietly, "My name is Stephanie,"

"Are you alright? I didn't realize you were injured." He sounded surprisingly worried, considering I'd not heard from him for eighteen months.

"It was just a Flesh wound," I replied shortly, "nothing new. Put me back to Kevin."

"Babe-"

I hung up. Okay, I'll admit it was more than a little childish, but I was sore and tired and beyond drained. I really didn't appreciate that he couldn't recognize my request to use my name, either. I wondered how he'd react this time. The last time I had hung up on him, he had broken into my apartment and scared the life out of me before extracting a concession not to hang up on him again.

My phone rang barely a minute later. I picked it up, "Stephanie Plum," I answered perkily.

"Babe, will you just-"

"My name is Stephanie," I said coldly, "please use it."

He sighed, "Stephanie," he tried again, his voice sounding tired and as drained as I felt, "can we meet up somewhere? I need to talk to you."

I didn't say anything for a few moments. He was clearly in an impatient mood, because he didn't wait for my reply he just barked out, "Pinos at five."

"Shortys at eight," I countered, surprised at his suggestion of Pinos and unsure how far he was aware of my situation with the Slayers.

"You'd eat at Shortys?" Ranger sounded surprised, "for me?"

I almost sniggered at the arrogance and surprise in his voice, but answered wearily, "I'm not doing it for you."

"Shortys at eight," he confirmed the details and I made a point of hanging up before he could.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Breaking the Rules**

**Chapter Seven**

**By Katherine**

I was early arriving at Shorty's. This was a tactical move as I was well aware of Rangers need to have his back to a wall, but I was no longer naïve enough to think I was safe just by being in his presence. I no longer believed that I would not be shot in the back if I left it open. I was no longer an innocent. I chose a booth where we could both satisfy our need for security, and ordered a drink while I waited.

Carmen came over to talk during her break and started quizzing me about Morelli. "Who was that cute cop you were with the other day?" she asked her face lighting up slightly.

As a boy, Joe had been able to take his pick from all the girls in the Burg. He'd test driven most of them. One thing could be said about Joe as a teenager – he wasn't particularly choosy. He didn't treat anyone differently, either. His policy was the love-em-and-leave-em type and it didn't change until after his stint in the navy. As an adult, he'd grown into his good looks and had acquired a dangerous air as a result of his general persona, and his work. He only had to crook a finger and they would line up for him. Not much had changed in the intervening years. Even when he was engaged, it was the same story. Clearly Joe still hadn't lost his charm over the last eighteen months.

"Joseph Morelli," I replied, "he works in vice; plainclothes."

"He was _hot_!" she smiled.

I grinned, "He's been voted as having the best ass in Trenton," I confided, "Problem is," I added an afterthought, "he knows it."

"He arrogant, then?" she looked disappointed. Carmen had had her fill of arrogant men. She'd been with an abusive partner until recently – he'd been relatively good looking and thought he was successful as a business man. He thought he was the best at what he did and when she had argued or said anything that hinted at him being at fault, he would hit her to silence her. It had been a long hard road out of that relationship for Carmen.

I shrugged, "he knows he looks good, and uses it to his advantage, but he can be really caring too. He takes good care of what's his," I smiled slightly. He and I had had many arguments over what I termed his 'over-protectiveness'.

Carmen sighed, "He sounds perfect," she said wistfully, then rolled her eyes, "he wouldn't want _me_ though."

The years had not been kind to Carmen. At thirty five, she looked every bit of her age and the difficulty of her life oozed out of every pore. Her eyes reflected her suffering and the resulting distrust with which she viewed everything and everyone. Her hands were dry and calloused, their appearance only worsened by cracked and chipped nails. Her hair was colored only as a result of regular trips to the supermarket for five dollar packet mixes. Although her figure was good, she had had two children and they had left their mark on her body. It was those two children who kept her where she was – for she had no college education to fall back on as she tried to support them and bring them up the best she could.

I didn't reply to her, except to say "he doesn't know you." Silently I added, he cannot possibly see what a gem you are. What was unsaid was recognized, however, and Carmen nodded.

"He looks like one of them shallow types," she said with a shrug.

I smiled, "I was engaged to him, once," I said, my mind slipping back two years to a time before the Slayers; a time when I felt relatively safe and secure. Oh, I had argued about everything, disagreed with everyone and generally been deliberately obtuse about everything, but it had been a time when people had been watching out for _me_ and had gone out of their way to guarantee my security. I sighed as I continued, "He wanted me to quit being a Bounty Hunter and become a full time housewife, which I couldn't do – not for him," I smiled, knowing that maybe somewhere there was the person who could inspire those urges in me, or would accept me without them – that was what love was and _that_ was what I would hold out for, "but he was great in bed, though."

We exchanged the conspiratorial looks that only girls can when they're talking about the sexual prowess of a male. She giggled and that sent me into laughter.

"Is he worth it?" she asked.

I thought about what she meant – is he worth sacrificing dreams and aspirations for? Is he worth the risk he entails? "He wasn't for me," I said quietly, "but he might be the right guy for you; he's a good cop and a great man." I smiled, "I'll introduce you sometime," I promised as I saw Ranger walk in.

He approached our table and then noticed Carmen. He lifted her bodily from the bench and turned her to face him, "you're new," he said, his voice cold and his eyes like ice, "what's your name?" I was surprised at the persona he'd adopted – it didn't phase me, except that it was completely unexpected – and surprised at the way he was treating a woman.

I stood up, coming to Carmen's defense. I could see fear in her eyes: on occasion she had flashbacks to her days in the abusive relationship and I did not want her to have one now. "Ranger, she's been here almost twelve months;" I said calmly, removing his hand from her shoulder as my eyes met hers and promised safety, "she's hardly new."

Carmen met my gaze and relaxed, recognizing the protection I offered. "My name is Carmen," she said politely, wriggling out of his grasp, "is there anything I can get you, _Sir_?" she ignored his frosty glare and smiled sweetly.

"My usual," Ranger said his eyes on me. She wouldn't know what it was, but I knew she could find out – Shorty himself had come out to view the debacle that was arising in his restaurant. Glancing around, it became apparent that he wasn't the only one; clearly people were either surprised to see Ranger around town, or worried about the sheer number of guns that were obviously present at our table.

Carmen glanced at me, "your usual, Steph?"

I nodded, "thanks, Carmen. Give my love to Isabelle and Josh."

"They miss you," she frowned reproachfully, ignoring Ranger's confused looks, "you should come and visit more often."

Ranger waved her off aristocratically and, after she had left spoke menacingly to me, "Don't _ever_ disregard me again!" he commanded. I recalled briefly a time when I would have been left quaking in my shoes if he'd looked at me like that, or spoken to me in such a manner, but this time I found his intimidation wanting.

I looked at him, meeting his eyes as my own frosted over, "this may be your playground, Ranger, but it is my home and don't you _ever_ threaten me again!" My eyes had become stony cold and my voice had dropped to an intimidating growl, techniques I only used on people who threatened me or were trying to attack me. "There are worse people than you," I said, "some of them I've come face to face with. Most of them want me dead. Don't bother threatening me because _I'm not scared_."

I sat back down at that point and leaned back slightly. Ranger stood for a minute and then sat back, also leaning back slightly; a clear indication that he was armed. During the time when I got cosy with guns, I had discovered that the only way to sit comfortably whilst packing heat was to lean back and take some of the pressure off.

We sat in silence for a brief time, and I used the time to soak in Ranger's appearance. Nothing had changed in eighteen months. He still wore black, and his body was as toned as ever before. His face had a few more scars and a few more lines, but his hair still hung long and he still was adept at keeping his emotions at bay.

I wondered at how he would see me; would he see through all the barriers I had erected? Would he be the same as my family? Would he understand the things I had had to do? I wondered.

"Why aren't you asking questions?" he asked after a moment. I knew what he meant; eighteen months ago I couldn't help but ask questions – I wanted the answers to everything. I would ask, even though I knew I wouldn't get an answer or I knew I wouldn't like the answer. I'd ask even if I knew my life would be in danger as a result of knowing. In all honesty, not much had changed in the last year and a half – rather, I'd become more subtle at getting the answers I wanted and had learned to curb my curiosity when necessary.

"This is your party," I said, my voice as blank as I knew my face to be, "you set it up. What do you want to know?" Besides, I was hoping he'd release a little bit of information as a result of the questions he asked and perhaps fill me in on where he'd been for the last eighteen months.

"You used to ask so many questions," he was working hard to keep his face as expressionless as it was, obviously the new-and-improved-Stephanie-Plum was causing him more than a little confusion "what changed?"

"Haven't you had your boys put together a file?" I asked with a faint sneer. I knew firsthand how powerful the RangeMan resources were and how much information could be gathered through them. If they wanted to, they could find out everything about my life; the summary could be done in twenty minutes, the full version might take twenty four hours.

"Yes," he said honestly, "but I haven't read it. I had one of them check you out and tell me whether or not you were a danger. I want to find out the rest myself."

That was a good answer. Ranger had just risen in my estimation of his intelligence. It was obviously important to ensure that I wasn't going to shoot him for the heck of it, and yet it was surprisingly sweet that he wanted to find out himself. It almost made me want to tell him everything.

"So?" he prompted, after it became clear I wasn't in a rush to say anything, "the questions?"

I shrugged, "I learnt the truth of the statement 'curiosity killed the cat'." I said, my voice not giving away the flash of pain I felt at that memory. It had been a hard-earned lesson.

"If it was going to get you killed, I wouldn't tell you," He said, "there's nothing you could ask _me_ that would have you killed."

Now that was a change from the past. Ranger used to answer my questions with statements like 'if I told you I'd have to kill you' and back then I used to wonder if he was telling the truth. I didn't wonder anymore. I wondered at the emphasis on 'me' but figured that it would become apparent as necessary. More important now, was to respond.

I looked at him, "Maybe," I agreed, doing my best to keep my voice light, "but I don't know that. I haven't got any way to know if you're a danger to me or not."

"You don't trust me?" he sounded a little surprised and a little hurt.

"I don't know you," I said honestly, "how can I trust you?"

"What do you mean you don't know me?" he looked confused, and his voice began to rise in anger.

"A lot can change in eighteen months," I said coolly, "I am evidence of that. How do I know you're not the latest in a list of top-notch assassins hired by the Slayers?"

He sighed, "I can have a file made up-" he paused, "but you wouldn't want it done by RangeMan, would you?" his lip twisted, "Damn," he said with a disbelieving shake of his head.

I nodded, then decided I'd throw him a bone of sorts, "my gut says to trust you," I looked at him, "I trust my gut and that is the _only_ reason I am even sitting here."

"Thank you," he was serious.

"How long have you known about the contract?" I asked casually. Hopefully this would give me two lots of information – on the movements of the Slayers, and on Ranger's movements in the last eighteen months.

"Since they offered it to me," he replied, then held up his hands as he saw how mine reached immediately for my gun, "I didn't pick it up," he said soothingly, and I relaxed a fraction.

"Who did?" I asked curiously.

"I had Diego pick it up to cut you some slack," he frowned, "except I didn't count on four other guys moving in on _Manoso_ territory." He said Manoso territory as though he was talking about a country or a kingdom. I understood what he meant in principle, though. When someone picks up a contract, it is considered theirs until they succeed, die or the contract is redistributed – it is a heavy insult for someone to move in on your contract and if the Manoso's wanted to keep any sort of reputation, they would have to take retaliatory action _and_ succeed in taking me out.

"Manoso don't mean what it used to," Carmen said as she returned with our drinks, "and the Bounty on Steph is bigger than just the money. There are a lot of personal things involved: Grizzolli is pushing it on Gilman's behalf, the Slayers are offering lifelong immunity – well, the shorter list is those not endorsing it." She informed us both, her voice as grim as I felt.

The shorter list still held some powerful people and I think that was all that had kept me going as long as I had been. Alexander Ramos had come to me after I had taken out the first hit man and had offered his support and all the resources of the Ramos family. Harry the Hammer and I had an agreement, by which he would steer clear of the contract and I would keep Vinnie in line and avoid stepping on his toes. RangeMan allowed me use of their resources to monitor the movements of the Slayers.

"What does she mean, Manoso doesn't mean what it used to?" he asked me when she had returned to the counter. Probably he was worried about the Manoso's having lost influence in Trenton. According to Tank, there was nothing to worry about – the three Manoso's being perfect, and all – as far as I was concerned, well an eighteen month absence suggested weakness and that would imply a lower influence.

"You haven't been here," I shrugged, and then tried to explain it as best I could, "that left a power vacuum which has since been filled."

"By who?" he demanded looking almost murderous.

I'd never really thought about it but I slipped back into analytical mode and within a few moments had a summary in my head, "The Slayers," I said "me, Grizzolli, Ramos," I shrugged, "pretty much everybody, really."

"What are you doing?" he was mildly interested, "that would bring you into an arena where you would even risk moving into my space?" he looked amused.

"Surviving," I said grimly.

He grabbed my hand and began massaging it lightly. I tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let me. "What do you mean?" he asked.

I'd never really talked about how hard my life had been for the last eighteen months – mostly because nobody cared to ask – but something in me wanted to open up and tell Ranger everything. I put the instinct down to the fact that he had asked where others had not, and didn't say anything.

"Have you ever been wanted dead?" I asked and when he opened his mouth to answer, I rushed on, "in the sense that someone would do _anything_ to have you dead, and your death is worth more than money? I walk down the street and my life is at risk. Someone picking up a nickel from the ground could be as dangerous as running into Vito Grizzolli in the street. Have you ever had a contract like that out on your head?"

"No," he shook his head.

"Well I've been living on borrowed time for eighteen months," I said quietly, "and the only people who openly tried to help were the RangeMan crew." I laughed lightly, "They offered me a new identity and a new life where I could escape the hit," this time I grimaced, "but you can't run from a Slayer hit. It follows you, no matter how many identities you assume, or how much you change your identity. No matter what, you are the walking dead."

He was staring at me with a strange expression on his face; it could only be described as a mixture of abject horror and pity. "So how are you still alive?" he asked.

I was tempted to take offense but then realized it was a logical question considering when he'd left I'd been beyond incompetent.

"I got real friendly with my gun," I said, "and took my self-defense seriously. I got lucky during the first six months. They put an incompetent oaf after me and I swear to god he was worse with his gun than I was." I smiled briefly, then my expression closed, "then I killed him."

Ranger looked startled, "like this morning?" he asked a little nervously.

No, it had been nothing like what went down this morning. I didn't shoot the incompetent oaf, but rather stabbed him three times and slit his throat. I still had nightmares about that night and the blood that had oozed out over my hands and onto my clothes. "Yes," I said quietly, "like this morning," there was no reason for Ranger to hear about the other side of my life, not yet.

"What happened then?" he asked, looking intrigued.

"Then I took out the next guy and sent the one after him to China where he was arrested for treason and is now serving a life term." Those were only slightly less harrowing experiences but luckily neither involved as much blood.

"Why do I feel like I'm missing something?" Ranger asked.

"Because you are," I said quietly, taking the plate Carmen brought over and thanking her.

"So what are you doing about the hit?" Ranger asked, taking his own.

"Nothing," I said.

"Nothing?"

"Not until the General Meeting is over," I shrugged, "then it depends on the outcome, and what they decide."

"What will you do if they keep trying to take you out?"

"I'll nullify the contract." I spoke quietly, my voice dead.

Ranger's eyes widened as he realized exactly what I was saying. There are only two ways to void a contract once the terms have been finalized. Either the target is taken out, or the ones who initiated the contract are no longer able to pay. I wasn't planning on killing myself. I was going to take out everyone who wanted me dead, if they didn't end the contract.

"Do you realize what you're saying?" he asked looking at me.

"Yes,"

We sat in silence after that, the only sounds between us those resulting from eating. I was eating my usual pizza - lower in fat and other bad things than the ones I used to eat, but with much more flavour – where Ranger was eating a salad.

"I see some thing haven't changed." He commented, pointing to my plate.

I grinned, "That's what you think,"

"Can I try some?" he asked.

I offered my plate and he took a bite and I watched in amusement as his eyes widened at the explosion of flavour I knew he would be experiencing, "and it's low in fat," I promised.

His eyes wide, he bobbed his head slightly, "this is good!"

"I discovered, with some help from Tank and the guys that food can be good for you and still taste good," I said with a smile, "I had to start eating better and doing more exercise," I frowned.

"You still don't enjoy it?" he asked.

"Not really," I frowned, "well, sort of. It's more that I enjoy the thinking time I get. I hate the way I feel during and after, but I enjoy the quiet."

He nodded and we slipped back into a silence. Carmen briefly interrupted to collect our plates and checked whether we both enjoyed our meals. We both assured her we had and Ranger asked her to tell Shorty to call him. Carmen sniffed at his arrogance and glanced at me. I shrugged – what did I know of their relationship, anyway?

When it became apparent that neither of us was keen to break the silence I stood up, "It's been nice seeing you again," I said, my voice open and friendly. I was telling the truth, it was nice to have someone outside the RangeMan crew treat me like a human being and talk to me, "but I have to work."

"Do you need any help?" he asked, standing up with me.

I thought about it, I had only one skip left at the moment – Bertini – and although I didn't have an exact location, Eliza had mentioned that he enjoyed spending his time in a particular back alley with a particular group of people. Probably it was something I didn't want to get involved in. If I took Ranger along, it might help him see just how much I'd changed, but at the same time it could limit my actions and we both knew that an extra person is always an extra risk as much as they are security. If I didn't take him, I was in more danger because I wouldn't have backup and it was a pretty nasty corner of town; not to mention the ass-kicking Tank would prescribe when he heard about it.

To take him, or not to take him – that is the question.

Man, you know you're losing it when you start thinking in Shakespeare. I looked at him and decided. What the hell? It's not like it could get much worse than it would be if I went in alone.

"If you want to come with," I said, "feel free. I'll brief you in the car."


	9. Chapter Eight

**Breaking The Rules**

**Chapter Eight**

**By Katherine**

It had been suggested, by Eliza, that I would find Alan Bertini in one of the darker alleys off Comstock. According to her, he did some small time pimping and dealing and she'd been taken down a few times to attract extra sales. She seemed to remember he had regular meetings with some superiors on Thursday nights and thought I might be able to find him there.

I was hoping that with Ranger along for the ride, the takedown would go more smoothly than it would have if I was alone. I glanced at him and then pulled out a file from beside me and handed it to him, "this is our target," I said.

He flipped through the file, backtracking occasionally to check something or to flick over the details, "not a nice guy, Babe," was all he said.

I shrugged, "most of them aren't."

"So what's your plan?" he asked, "how do you want me to play it?"

"I don't want you to do anything unless it's clear that I'm not in control," I said firmly, "and no guns. This is Slayerland and I don't want to piss them off at the moment."

"Where are we going?"

"An alley off Comstock."

"The Slayers have expanded?" Ranger looked surprised, "this used to be the Boneszone."

I nodded, "but the Bones were removed from Trenton about a year ago. They got in the Slayers way and there was a bit of a turf war going on between Grizzolli and Ramos so they got into it to sort out their own differences."

He frowned, "How is it that you're up on this?"

"I'm not the little white girl I used to be," I said bluntly.

"That much is clear," he flashed me a grin, "I like the tan."

I didn't reply, just kept driving.

"So, what's the situation?" he asked after a moment.

"Bertini is a pimp and a dealer in the evenings and Eliza thinks he'll be meeting with some of his superiors. There's going to be some serious heat, so we'll wait until they leave and then take him down." I paused, "then I'm going to shoot him in the balls for all the evil shit he's done."

"You'd have to take him to the hospital if you did that," Ranger was nothing if not practical and appeared completely unphased by my declaration, "you wouldn't get paid until he was well again.

I frowned, "damnit, and I really need that money, too." I sighed, "I guess shooting him is off the agenda."

"What do you need money for, Babe?" Ranger asked after a moment, "you look like you're comfortable."

"My two nieces want to go to the local dance school. I want to organize it for them."

"But you don't talk to your family," he looked at me.

A shot of pain lanced through my chest at the matter-of-fact pronouncement. Although I knew it, and was used to it, that someone else stated the betrayal by my family just hurt.

"No," I conceded, "but Angie and Mary-Alice call when they are alone." When I got their first call, I had almost fallen out of my seat in surprise; especially when Angie explained that she knew about the hit and she didn't care. She also mentioned that Mary-Alice didn't understand but she would explain it in a few years. In gratitude for their loyalty, I liked to help them do the things they wanted to – like dance lessons."

Ranger nodded, and that was the end of the conversation.

When we arrived on Comstock, I parked at the end of the alleyway and we both got out. There was a small huddle of people standing dispassionately around something down the other end and from the horror stories I'd heard, I had an immediate flash of worry that it was a child or something. I slipped into the shadows and started moving closer, so that I could investigate. Ranger followed, silent as night.

As we got closer, the scene I saw astounded me. I recognized all the men standing in a circle, and I recognized the guards. I couldn't quite see what they were standing around, but I knew these men and I knew that it would be nothing like what I had feared if it had been the Slayers.

I stepped out of the shadows, ignoring the raised weapons, lifting my arms and spreading my hands wide to show I wasn't a threat, "Alexander!" I said with a broad smile. The guards lowered their weapons when they recognized me and the men turned to greet me, blank faced except for two. One, I recognized from a long time past, but I ignored him in favor of the other who was beaming at me.

"Stephanie!" he beamed, and kissed both my cheeks, "it is good to see you again!"

"And you," I replied, stepping back slightly. I sensed Ranger step tentatively out of the shadows, "and of course, you remember Ranger?"

"Mr. Manoso," Alexander said, "it is a pleasure to finally catch up with you." At a lunch-date, Alexander had let me know that he was glad for Rangers and my involvement in taking care of his youngest son, Homer. He also said that Ranger had been avoiding him, I grinned and said that Ranger was worried about whether or not Homer's death was going to cause an issue.

Ranger inclined his head, "I have been away on business," he answered.

"No matter," Alexander waved his hand imperiously, "I wanted to thank you for your role in cleaning up the mess that Homer left."

Ranger nodded briefly, his hand resting on my shoulder. I wasn't sure if that was for my benefit, or his.

Hannibal, the next-in-line to take over from Alexander, stepped forwards and kissed my cheek, "Cara, you are still alive!" he beamed.

"You forget how tenacious I am," I smirked.

Hannibal smiled at me and nodded to Ranger, "I also thank you, Mr. Manoso. My brother was an idiot – your involvement is appreciated."

"Cara, you remember my colleagues, don't you?" Alexander asked, pointing to the men surrounding him and re-introducing them one-by-one, giving me their name and job description, even though I knew them already.

He reached the only one who wasn't from Trenton, but I grinned and interrupted, "Tate Angelus," I said with a wink, "general burr on the but of humanity."

The man grinned, "and you must be Stephanie Plum," he said, smiling wickedly, "should I watch my car?"

I laughed and gave him a hug, "You know it!" I grinned and then kissed his cheek, "it's so good to see you!"

"You are acquainted?" Alexander was surprised, where Ranger was impassive.

I nodded, "Tate and I are old friends." I wasn't sure how much Tate wanted to have revealed, and figured that was ambiguous enough.

"We grew up together," Tate said with a faint smile.

I laughed, "Tate was the one who tried to teach me to fly."

"So what are you here for, Cara?" Alexander brought the conversation back to business, flashing me a briefly apologetic look.

"I'm looking for Alan Bertini," I said quietly, and blinked at the quiet intake of air from the men around me, "he's my next paycheck."

Alexander motioned to the chair behind me, and I turned to find Bertini cuffed and shackled to a chair. One side of his face was bleeding from a long cut that ran down it. He was as good as naked, and had burns and bruises all over his body. I surveyed the scene dispassionately, "Have y'all finished with him?" I drawled.

"What's he worth to you?" Tate asked quietly.

"Fifteen grand," I replied, "why? You need me to leave him?"

"He raped my sister-" I sucked in a breath, I knew Sienna and was really good friends with her, "then tried to sell her on the street."

"Is she alright?" I asked, looking at his face and seeing the worry and pain evident in it. I had not noticed before, but he looked tired and strained.

"She will be," he assured me.

"Let me know if I can help," I said, "and give her my love."

He nodded, "I'll pick up your paycheck for this one," he said to me, "that okay?"

"I'm not taking _that_ to the cop shop, knowing my luck they would have arrested _me_," I said with a grimace, "if you'd said I could I would have shot him myself – fifteen grand or not!" I shook my head, "if you pay for my nieces dance lessons for the next six months and let me pay him what I owe him before you keep going, I'll walk away." I counter-offered.

"You got a beef with him, Cara?" Alexander glared at the man, "what did he do to you?"

"He messed with one of mine," I said shortly. I knew that combined with their respect for me, and the knowledge that both Ranger and I would remain silent on all that had occurred, that was a good enough reason.

"It's a deal," Tate said, "but don't kill him."

Before I left, I had shattered Bertini's wrists and broken his nose. Then Ranger and I walked out, cool and calm.

In the car, I waited for whatever Ranger had to say about the whole thing. He was silent until we were well outside Slayerland but I could sense a load of emotion behind his painfully blank face.

"You friendly with the mob, Stephanie?" he asked, his voice cool.

I shrugged, "yeah, I guess so."

"Do you care to explain?"

"Alexander offered his help when it became clear that I was in danger from the Slayers. He said he owed me a favour. We have become friends."

"_Friends_?"

"I make sure he gets the cigarettes he needs," I said smiling, "because Hannibal wants him to quit, and I can provide the occasional date for Hannibal when his wife is out of town."

"So you appear to date the head of the Ramos family? You get favors from his father and you grew up with the head of the LA crowd?" Ranger shook his head, "how do you do it?"

"I can't help who I grow up with," I said calmly, "Tate was my best friend – he's never involved me in his business until today, and that was only because I was already involved. Alexander and I have an agreement, as do Hannibal and I."

Ranger held up his hands, "hey, I'm not judging you. I'm impressed, there is nobody else I know who could get into a situation like this and handle it so well."

"Thanks," I smiled slightly.

"It's not like you to just obey the mob, though," he looked at me, "what was that all about?"

"I'm not strong enough to stand alone," I said quietly, "not against everyone. The Slayer thing taught me one thing, if nothing else; that everyone needs someone to get their back and take care of them. I can't fight everyone. Alexander has never done me wrong, just like Tate and Hannibal haven't." I shrugged, "not to mention that Sienna is a good friend of mine and Bertini getting his hands on her is the saddest and scariest thing I've heard of, and I promised Eliza he would be taken care of."

Early the next morning, I gave my usual call to the control room and had a woman answer the phone. I was surprised, because as far as I knew I was the only female on RangeMan Trenton's staff.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hello, Stephanie Plum checking in."

"Thank you Ms. Plum," she said, "and you have a few notes here. Can I read them to you?"

"Who are you?" I asked warily.

"Mara Manoso," she replied, "Kevin is here as well, if you wish for him to tell you."

"Thanks," I said and waited until she handed me over.

"Hey Angel!" he greeted me.

"Hey, Kev, how's your girl?"

"She's good," he sounded cheerful, "we're going out tonight, so maybe you _will_ lose the bet!"

I smiled, "I hope I do. So what news have you got for me?"

"We've got the report on the SGM for you," he said after a moment, "it finished late last night and preliminary reports would suggest you've got conditional clearance."

"Meaning?"

"I don't know the conditions, but I assume that as long as you don't get into their territory again or assuming you don't take out the entire Trenton faction again, you'll be fine."

I shrugged, "anything else?"

"Bertini was found dead this morning, I'm afraid you lost that Bounty."

"Oh, I knew that one," I frowned, "so he's definitely dead?"

"Yeah."

"I'll come and see Eliza later," I said after a moment, "she needs to start thinking about where she wants to go from here now that she's clear from him."

"She and Ella really hit it off and I think she might get offered a permanent position here." Kevin said enthusiastically, "and Tank talked her into visiting the counselor, so she's doing good."

I shrugged, "well, I'll talk to her and see what she wants. Have fun tonight!"

My next call was to Lester, he'd promised me a night clubbing and I felt like taking him up on that tonight. I was in the mood to relax, it looked like the Slayers were backing off and that might mean I could go back to my normal life soon.

"Hey Angel," he answered, "what's up?"

"Are you free tonight, Les?" I asked.

There were grunts of amusement that came over the phone and I winced, he must have been in a meeting, "you're not alone, are you?" I asked with a sigh.

"No he ain't, Bombshell," Tank's voice became apparent, "you and he got a big night planned?"

"Sure do," I laughed, "why, you want to join in? I'm always open for a guy like you."

He laughed, "I'll be there."

"Well why don't we make this a party?" I demanded, "Les, you're in charge of invites. I'll organize it. I've got nothing on today."

"Whoah," Lester sounded surprised, "that's new. You _never_ take time off. What brought this on?"

"No skips to bring in, and the Slayers seem to be losing interest."

There were whoops coming down the phone and someone shouted out, "Celebrate!"

"Fucking A!" I said, "I'm out to celebrate tonight and you're all coming!"

"All of us?" Ranger's voice sounded a little unsure.

"Yeah, Ranger," I grinned, "you can come too. Bring your brother and sister, if you like."

"It's probably not smart for you to be seen with Diego, yet," he countered.

Oh, yeah, Diego was supposed to be trying to kill me, "hmm," I acknowledged his point, "that's true. Well, is Diego there?"

"Yes, I'm here Ms. Plum,"

"Stephanie, please," I said light heartedly, "if you're trying to kill me, I think that puts us on first name terms."

"Stephanie, then," he said agreeably.

"I'm afraid I'll have to withdraw the invitation for tonight," I said apologetically, "but as soon as this mess is over, I'll make it up to you and we'll make the next night my shout. I'm really sorry," and I really was. Something about Ranger made me want to get to know his family.

"That's alright, Stephanie," he sighed, "another time. I hope this mess straightens itself up soon; I'd really like to meet you."

"Me too," I said with a frown. "I really _am_ sorry."

"Not to worry," he said, "you and Lester should hash out the details," he said and then Lester started talking.

"How many people are we talking, Angel?"

"Everyone who can come," I grinned, "I want to celebrate!"

"So where are we going?" he asked.

"I'll call you back when I've got it worked out," I informed him, "what sort of music do we want?"

"Latin-" he said, "for an Angel, you dance like sin!'

"Aww, Lester, you're so sweet!" I giggled, "I'll call you in an hour or so."

"Sure thing, Angel," we hung up.

I went for a run as I began to think about my dilemma, I wanted to have a good fifty people go clubbing with me – they drank to excess, they danced like the devil and they were so hot that they could melt ice with a glance. Where could we go?

When I got back to my place, I showered and dressed and then sat down with my phone and a pen and paper. I dialed all the clubs I liked and enquired as to the expense of getting VIP entry for around 50 people for the night. It was downright expensive, so I asked about hiring out the club for the night and found that a far more reasonable idea.

I was about to call back to one of the cheaper ones that I knew was a great place to go, when my phone rang. Assuming it would be Lester calling to find out how I was going, I answered snappily, "I told you I'd call when I was done, Lester!"

The deep smooth timbre of laughter came down the line and I immediately realized that I had the wrong person, "oops!" I muttered.

"Only you, Stephanie," Tate murmured in amusement.

"Hey, Tate," I said sheepishly, "What's up?"

"I _was_ calling to see if you were free to catch up?" he said, "but now I'm curious; what are you doing and who is Lester?"

"Lester is an employee of RangeMan," I answered, "and a friend of mine. I'm trying to organize a party, but short of hiring out the entire club, I don't know if it is going to happen," I shrugged.

There was silence for a few minutes, then Tate said, "If I organize the club for you, and guarantee its security, will you join me for the afternoon?" he asked, "only I really would prefer not to have to organize dance classes for your nieces."

I laughed, "shirking on our deal already?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"That's fine," I grinned, "hey, do you think we could get Hells Kitchen?"

"Of course," he sounded insulted, "and is there anything else?"

"No, that's all. Call me back with the details and let me know when and where you want me to meet you."

Twenty minutes later it was organized and I redialed Lester.

"Angel!" his smile was audible, "what's the plan?"

"Is Diego still with you?" I asked.

"I'm just leaving," I heard.

"Stop!" I commanded, "I have to talk to you!"

"Alright, I'm staying. And you're not on loudspeaker anymore."

"I've hired out 'Hells Kitchen'," I informed him, "and I expect you there to dance with me."

"Will it be secure?" he asked after a moment.

"Tate Angelus is guaranteeing that nobody unwanted will get in, but all weapons will be removed at the door."

"I can't-"

"Not yours," I sighed a longsuffering sigh, "I know you need to stay armed to feel secure, so I've organized exceptions for you and your brother and sister, myself and Tate."

"You do realize that he's the-"

"Head of LA?" I interrupted, "I know. He's cool though."

"If you say so," he sounded dubious.

"That's why I'm letting you keep your weapons," I said soothingly.

"Alright," he sighed, "I'll be there."

"Good, now pass me back to Lester."

"Yo, Angel," Lester picked up, "what did you say to him, girl? He's looking like a stunned mullet!"

"We've hired out the whole of Hell's Kitchen. Everyone should arrive after ten – no weapons except for the Manoso's. Security and privacy is guaranteed."

"Holy shit!"

I grinned, I knew this was going to go down in history as the best party ever. With Tate and I working together again, _nothing_ was going to stand in our way. Tate had been the one who persuaded me to try and fly. He'd been the one to help me take my first baby steps outside the burg network.

"I need a list of everyone who's invited and their dates so that they can be cleared." I said, "the club will be opened at ten and taxi's will take everyone home, okay?"

"Sure thing, Angel," Lester grinned, "how did you pull it off?"

"I had a friend help me out," I smiled, "it was either this or dance lessons for my nieces. He was more interested in this one, of course."

"So who is he?"

"Tate Angelus," I said quietly, knowing his reaction would be the same as everyone else's. I even prepared my explanations again.

"What?!" He sounded surprised, "how do you know Tate?"

"We're old friends," I said quietly.

"Well, shee-it, Angel!" Lester sounded astonished, "you're going to have to fill me in tonight. We're dancing together, right?"

"You know it."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Breaking The Rules**

**Chapter Nine**

**By Katherine**

Tate picked me up in his cherry red sports car. He had knocked on my door, offered me his arm, and escorted me to the car. He opened the door and ushered me into the passenger seat"I can't drive" I pouted.

"What do you take me for" he looked disgusted"I've heard about your recent history with cars."

I scowled"I'm not_ that_ bad"

"You're worse with other peoples than your own" he continued"this is my baby and I will not have her exploding on me."

I shook my head"it's not like I do it on purpose" I sniffed.

He threw a glance my way and I just happened to catch his eye and we both burst into laughter. He drove straight out of town towards D.C. and I looked at him"where are we going" I asked.

"A house I have in the area" he said"trust me, you're safe."

"That's not the issue." And it wasn't. Tate was as bad as I was when it came to personal security, and I trusted him with my life - I knew I was safe with him. I had thought we were going out for lunch and then something relaxed in Trenton this afternoon, before meeting at the club tonight. Clearly I was wrong.

"You'll have plenty of time to get slutted up" he said, throwing an amused glance my way"never fear."

I rolled my eyes"what have you been up to lately" I queried"I've heard interesting rumors about you over the years."

He grimaced"well, I got married, and divorced" he pre-empted my next words with a "don't ask. And I took over the family business about eight years ago when Father became ill. It was touch-and-go for a while but everything is firmly in hand now, which is pleasant and relaxing. But really, my life is very predictable. Yours sounds much more interesting, what have you been doing lately"

"Staying alive" a bitter tone crept into my voice, as much as I tried to keep it out. I shook my head"well, that's the last two years" I grinned a faint smile"after I left the Dick, I worked as a lingerie buyer until I got laid off, then I had a stressful period of unemployment which was solved when I blackmailed the pervert into my current job;" I paused"I've had more than a few interesting moments since then, but most of those made the national media, so I figure you'll already know about them."

"And your recent situation" he queried, looking at me"I understand the basics, but I would like to hear your story."

"One of my skips about eighteen months back was known to have ties to the Slayers. There was a power vacuum which was to be filled when a new guy in town earnt his stars by killing several key players in law enforcement. I was to be the last on the list. It culminated, at that point, with an attempted gang rape in a playground, when I was rescued by a gun-wielding transvestite called Sally. The Slayers regrouped and put a hit out on me. My usual support team had abandoned Trenton at that point, but I was helped by the RangeMan guys and trained. I was_ really_ lucky during the first six months, I took a few bullets and a few wounds, but nothing fatal.

"Since then, I've stopped letting them walk all over me and have become competent at my job. I'm not great, but I'm no longer the pushover I used to be." I shrugged"It looks like the hit's off, though, which is a good thing because I was developing a serious case of_ paranoid insomnia_ or something similar."

He smiled as we pulled into a small cottage. A single white vehicle was waiting in the garage"interesting story" he said"we're meeting someone here and I need you to _trust me_. It's important that you do so. Will you promise me"

I looked at him and saw how serious he was"who is it"

"I can't tell you until you promise me. But they have sworn they will not harm you and they will allow you to hold them at gun point for the whole meeting."

"Are they alone"

He nodded.

"Alright" I sighed"I'll ask questions before I shoot, how's that"

He shook his head"it'll have to do."

"So who am I meeting"

"Ernesto Gianni, the"

"Head of the Slayer Organisation" I stared at him"what the hell are you playing at" I demanded"he's trying to kill me"

"That's why we are meeting, so you can talk to him."

"Oh." I rolled my eyes, "duh!" I muttered sarcastically.

"Ms. Plum" the man in front of me was nothing like what I'd imagined Ernesto Gianni to be like. I had imagined a portly old man with bald patches and wrinkly skin. What I got was a handsome thirty-something year old with tanned, firm skin and golden blond hair that flopped around his face. "It is a pleasure to meet you finally."

"Always nice to meet the man who wants to kill you" I returned emotionlessly.  
"Indeed, that is why we are meeting today" he said with a smirk"you have caused many problems for my organisation, and it is time that it ended."

I looked at him sceptically"If you think killing me will end those problems then I can guarantee you're sorely mistaken."

"I am aware of the retribution that would result from killing you" he admitted"which is why I have arranged to speak to you here, with your friend. I understand you are aware of the decision made at our General Meeting"

"I have only heard shaky details" I said after a moments thought.

"Yet you planned a celebration" He sounded surprised.

"I don't get a chance to let my hair down much" I said"metaphorically speaking, of course."

He looked at my long tresses hanging down my back and agreed"metaphorically speaking." He shook his head"We have decided that if you have survived this long, raising the bounty upon your head will do little good. As such, from this day forth you will be free from the threat of Slayer violence" he smiled slightly"and as a gesture of goodwill I would like to suggest an alliance between us."

"Alliance" I was confused, although I forced my voice to remain even and controlled.

"Yes" he nodded"you will consult us before taking in anybody tied to our organisation, and in return you shall be compensated should an issue arise which disallows the return of said person to prison."

"I see" I nodded slightly.

"We would also offer access to our information sources and any other assistance that could be provided by our organisation, should you agree to this."

I took a deep breath and glanced at Tate, who's face was blank. I looked back at Gianni"Are you saying, Mr. Gianni, that if I request your permission to take in any Slayers who forget their court date, you will offer me the resources of the Slayers"

He nodded.

"and should you decide that they do not need to return to prison, for whatever reason, you will compensate me... monetarily"

He nodded again.

I thought about it for a moment and then said quietly"With one condition, I will agree."

"Your condition" his voice had turned frosty, but I ignored it.

"If a skip is ..._ personal_..." I said, for lack of a better word"I would expect an exception."

He frowned"And what of those in our organisation with_ personal_ issues with you" he asked"will they be exempt from the other terms"

I glanced at him"Anton Ward" I said after a moment.  
He nodded.

"Ward has a personal issue with me and deserves the chance to take it up with me" I shrugged"he must be prepared for the consequences of his actions, however."

Ernesto nodded"if there is a personal issue between yourself and any member of the organisation, the terms of this agreement do not apply; however I would request that you alert me to the situation before taking any action."

I dipped my head"of course."

"We are agreed" He asked.

"We are agreed." I confirmed.

"Congratulations, Ms. Plum, You are a free woman."

"Please" I purred"call me Stephanie."

He grinned"and I am Ernie."

Tate stepped forwards"glad that's sorted out. Ernie you should have told me you were after Stephanie and I would have set you straight years ago."

"You two are good friends, I gather" Gianni said looking between us.

I gave a small nod"we are."

"You have known each other long"

"Long enough" clearly Tate didn't trust him_ that_ much.

Tate and I ate lunch with Gianni before we left him in the small house and drove back to Trenton where he wanted to spend the afternoon with me at the Ramos mansion.

I shrugged mentally, Alexander was a very dear friend of mine and although I would prefer some solid time alone with Tate to catch up, I was not upset at the thought of time with Alexander. We drove straight into the secure parking at a different entrance to that which was used by the general public, I was amused at Tate's liberties in Trenton, but followed him into the living room where I greeted Alexander with a kiss on the cheek, and Hannibal with one on the forehead. He was sitting with a woman in his arms and she smiled at me;

"You must be Stephanie" she beamed"I owe you a debt of gratitude"  
I must have looked confused because she continued with a laugh"You keep me secure from the other factions by pretending to date Hannibal" she said"they think I'm just a cleaning lady, or something."

Realization dawned and I grinned"you don't owe me anything" I laughed"I get some awesome clothes out of it! I must apologize, however, that I don't know your name..."

"I'm Maria" she said"Maria Ramos."

I quirked my eyebrow at Hannibal who shrugged sheepishly at me. "It's a pleasure to meet you" I said finally.

"Alexander, do you mind if we borrow the pool" Tate asked"I promised Steph we'd catch up, and this is the safest place I can think of."

"Of course" Alex waved his hand"feel free. By the way, congratulations Cara - I hear you are now allied with the Slayers."

I nodded, slightly amazed at how fast the… mob-vine… worked"loosely" I agreed"but they're no longer after my blood, which is_ always_ a good thing."

Tate and I spent hours swimming and relaxing beside the pool, working on our tans (me more than him) as we caught up during the afternoon. Hannibal and Maria joined us for a period, but then retired to their own home.

Alexander ended up inviting us for dinner, and the three of us spent a pleasant hour conversing over everything from the local situation to movies. Alexander pried my background with Tate from us, and teased us lightly about my flying incident.

I just smirked and said"You've just not seen me in my Wonder Woman costume yet."

He laughed"Oh, Cara you are good for me! One day you must show me this costume! I had never heard of Wonder Woman until I met you."

My jaw dropped in outrage; how could he not have heard of her! She was only idolized by every girl under fifteen (and in my case, forty) and all men_ over_ fifteen!

Tate smirked, and put a finger under my jaw, lifting it back to its rightful position"careful, Steph" he said"you'll catch flies."

"Extra protein" I smirked at him.

"Now that you no longer have to fear the Slayers" Alexander said"what will you do with your extra time"

"I don't know" I shrugged"there's still the Grizolli issue to sort out. I think, however, that I will visit my parents."

"A good idea" he said, ambiguously, considering he'd heard me rant about them numerous times and had told me that they weren't worth the tears I cried over them.

I smiled"I'm not sure about that" I said"I'm liable to shoot them if they say the wrong thing. Or even if they say the right thing." I shook my head"I'm lost" I admitted after a moment. "I don't know what to do"

Tate took my hand and said firmly"You are going to come with me" he said"to Hell's Kitchen. We've got a party planned and everybody there loves you and will be happy to celebrate your freedom with you. I can't wait to meet your friends."

"Thanks" I said"I needed that."

"I know" he was serious"but if you get like that again, I'll revert to my old methods of ... " he coughed"lifting your mood."

"You wouldn't" I hissed.

"Do you really want to test me" he asked with a smirk.  
I snorted and then burst into laughter as Alexander started to snigger"Damnit, Tate" I exclaimed when I'd calmed down"you make me act like a child again"

"Since when did you ever_ not_ act like a child" he asked with a snort.

I shook my head"So, what brought you back to Trenton" I asked finally"You swore once that you'd_ never _return..." And he had, in a loud horrifying argument between us, he'd promised that nothing could bring him back to Trenton short of the Apocalypse. It had been the third worst argument in Burg history (the first being my breakup with the Dick, the second being when my friends told me they didn't want to see me again).

"Well, I heard about a problem that a friend of mine was having" he threw her an amused glance"and thought I'd help out."

"No, really" I snorted"why"

"Sienna" he said shortly"she has nightmares. Because of_ him_." His face took on a look of unparalleled fury"that godforsaken bastard! Alexander offered to help me... take_ care_ of the issue."

I nodded"Apart from the nightmares, how_ is_ Sienna, anyway? I've not spoken to y'all for a while..."

"She's alright" he said after a moment"She's still studying. Told me very politely to fuck off when I asked her if she was going to start thinking about getting a job any time soon."

I grinned, that was so typically Sienna"she still at Stamford" I asked.  
He shook his head"she was, but arranged a transfer after Bertini got in the road. She's studying from home for the moment but may return to campus next semester."

Tate got changed in Alexander's room, while I used Maria's. I had chosen a tan halter-top that stopped just above my waist, and moulded to my skin. I paired it with a butter-soft, black pair of leather hipsters. My hair I left long and wavy (Mr. Alexander had suggested that growing it out to give it some weight would make it more manageable, and he'd been right), hanging down to my waist. I put on minimal makeup, merely a few swipes of mascara and some lip gloss, and then started to strap on my artillery for the night. Because my clothes were skin hugging, I chose to limit myself to two ankle holsters for the guns as the would not be quite as evident under the flare of the pants, and slipped a knife into the back holster, as well as one on either side of my waist.

I stepped out of Maria's room to find Tate waiting for me. He looked me over, a faint smile present upon his face"Shall we" he asked, offering me his arm.

"We shall" I placed my arm upon his and delivered a chaste kiss to both Alexander and Hannibal, then we departed.

At the door, I recognized the two security men as part of Tate's personal troupe and nodded to them. They opened the door with a brief"come on in, Mr. Angelus, Ms. Plum."

All the RangeMen and their dates were being frisked as they entered, I noticed, and looked none-too-happy about it. I shrugged, that was part of the deal. Tate led me inside with a hand on the small of my back"would you like a drink" he asked.

I nodded and ordered a Tequila and Lemonade, I figured it was pretty simple and I would know_ exactly_ what I was drinking.

Hells Kitchen was the classiest club in Trenton. It had a large dance floor, with amazing lighting and DJ box, all of which had already attracted some dancers. The music was largely Latin based, and I knew that most of the RangeMen had a pretty thorough background in it. It was destined to be a good night! Around the edge of the club there were booths of red leather, while up one end there were some stool-type tables where people were standing and chatting. The bar stretched the length of one side of the club and was manned by almost twenty bartenders; drinks were coming hard and fast.

Someone placed their hand upon my shoulder and I turned to find Ranger standing there"you look stunning" he said simply.

"Thanks" I smiled, then looked him over. He was well dressed and I gulped mentally at the sight of him as I felt a tingle run through my body. He was wearing black combat pants, sculpted around his ass, a black silk shirt with three open buttons exposing just enough of his tanned and ripped chest to make breathing a bit of a challenge (for me, not him). His hair hung in long silky rivulets down to his shoulders, framing his stunningly handsome face. I smirked"you're not too bad, you know" I said"you clean up rather nicely."

"Thanks" he said amused"I'd like to..._ introduce_ you to my family" he said"will you come with me"

"Tate's just gone to get me a drink" I said"when he comes back I'll come with you."

"No need, Angel" Tate appeared at my back, handing me a drink"Manoso" he greeted Ranger.

I rolled my eyes at the frosty looks they exchanged. Neither blinked for a few minutes, until finally_ I_ snapped"Cut it out, both of you." I said snootily"you're both well versed in mind-control techniques; how to do it and how to avoid it, so you could stand here for the whole night staring at each other and I will_ not_ let you ruin my celebrations! Finish this tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am" They said instantaneously, spinning to face me and saluting.

"Everyone's a fucking comedian" I muttered"come on, lets go meet the family."

Ranger led me over to a booth in the back corner and I could make out two dark shadows. I sat down and Tate shuffled in beside me, forcing Ranger around to the other side to sit next to the woman I assumed was Mara Manoso. He smiled across the table at me when I poked Tate.

"Stephanie, this is Mara, my sister, and Diego, my brother" he introduced them both, pointing first to the woman beside him, and then to the man on my left.

I shook hands with both of them, and said with a laugh"and the man beside me is Tate"

"Angelus" Diego said, eyeing him warily.

"Manoso" Tate replied doing the same.

Once more, I rolled my eyes and then began thumping my head on the table"There's a fucking history between you all isn't there" I demanded, then shook my head"no, wait, I don't want to know. Tell me tomorrow. Tonight's about celebrating. Any bullets that leave your weapons will be returned to your bodies care of me" I said scowling"tonight's about having fun so don't get into any of your macho shit."

Mara snorted with laughter and I eyeballed her, wondering what the hell was so funny. She grinned up at me"I've been trying to explain to Ick and D that they don't need to prove their dominance over_ everybody_." She shook her head"maybe I'll just threaten to shoot them, next time."

"I've found bullets do wonderful things to increase your authority." I said airily.

"Babe, you don't seriously think you could pull a gun on one of us do you" Ranger looked mightily amused.

"Do you really want to test me" I said softly, my eyes hooded and watchful.

He didn't respond.

Eventually the silence irritated me so I pushed Tate out of the seat"I'm going to dance" I said. I ignored the stunned looks as I pushed the head of LA out of his seat, and his mutterings about revenge, and made my way out onto the dance floor.

Bobby and Lester were in the centre with some poor girl who couldn't work out what she was doing. From her flushed face, however, I could tell_ exactly_ what she'd be doing soon and it was going to leave her with a rosy blush and a BIG smile. Clearly she wasn't used to such large quantities of testosterone at one time - someone should have warned her about the risk of overdose. I walked confidently to Lester, and whispered in his ear"when she's done, you owe me a dance."

He grinned and winked at me, and then turned his attentions back to the girl, Bobby throwing me an amused glance. I turned and grasped Kevin who was dancing with his new woman and winked at her"I'll return him in just a minute" I promised.

She laughed huskily and started dancing with Eric. She was a pretty little thing, dainty and petite. I said as much to Kevin who smiled"she makes me feel protective" he admitted, then his eyes widened"are Lester and Bobby doing what I think they're doing to that poor girl" he asked.

I laughed, and nodded"it's pretty obvious, isn't it"

He shook his head"rather cruel, though." He looked conflicted at that.

I put my hand on his shoulder"trust me, she might be slightly embarrassed, but it's not hurting her and she's enjoying herself. They're good looking men and they know exactly how to please women" I shrugged"there are few men who treat women properly, but those in this room do. They won't hurt her, nor will they make fun of her for it."

He nodded slowly and relaxed"you're right."

Lester pulled me into his arms a few minutes later and I leaned back against him, his hands on my waist guiding my movements. He pulled me closer to his groin until I felt his hard member pushing into me. I shifted slightly and felt him jerk in reaction"Do you feel what you do to me" he whispered into my ear, his breath coming in short gasps.

I turned and wrapped my arms around his, responding huskily"you_ know_ I do."

We moved together, grinding our hips in a semi-circular motion, until finally he recovered his breath and began to guide our movements. His hands held me close to him, firm but not imprisoning, and he leaned forwards and I leaned back, arching my back as far as I could. One hand ran from my neck, barely touching me, down past my cleavage and over my belly-button, to my crotch where he rubbed gently as his face followed the path of his hand, gradually pulling me upright as his face reached lower and lower.

We were moving, him on his knees, his face at my groin, while I was standing. Slowly he made his way back up my body, his eyes glinting. "Smells delicious" he whispered into my ear, causing shivers to race through my body at the thought of him tasting me.

He laughed a deep gutteral sound that kept the shivers coming"you're hot" he said"and_ wet_."

I pulled his face to mine and kissed him, my tongue slipping into his mouth without opposition. He returned the favour a moment later, his hands moving so that one cupped my ass and the other my breasts, both kneading at my body. I ran my hands through his hair around his face and over his hard, muscular chest.

Eventually we pulled back, and I flashed him a smile"you kiss as well as you dance" I said with a grin. Not that it was news to me.

I danced with Diego once, as I'd promised him, and discovered that he was_ brilliant_! Neither of us were as comfortable together as I was with Lester or any of the other guys, but still we moved as one (mostly, in this case, because I let him lead). He didn't dance with such close contact as the others, but each of his movements was graceful and erotic.

Tate pulled me into his arms at the end of the song, and I flashed Diego an apologetic look as I danced with Tate. Tate didn't dance nearly as well, I discovered, but was still passable he was talking to me, however, and I forced myself to pay attention"I'm going to have to go" he said"I promised Sienna I'd be home tomorrow, and you know she worries."

I nodded, brushing a kiss onto his cheek"Give her my love" I said"and if she needs a break, she might come to Trenton, sometime."

"I'm sure both of us will be back" he agreed"I can't_ believe_ how long it's been." He brought my lips into a searing kiss and then broke away, leaving me a little stunned, as he spoke again"I missed that" he said thoughtfully"but I really do have to go."

I rolled my eyes and suppressed my sudden desire to stamp my foot childishly - maybe he couldn't dance very well, but he certainly knew what to do with his mouth. I wondered briefly if he was as good with his mouth in_ other_ places and then shook my head, he and I had briefly tried dating before the Dick, but ended it when we realized how different we truly were.

I walked him to the door and waved him, with promises to call or email him soon. He promised he'd get Sienna to call as well. I slipped back inside, to find both my hands restrained as I was pulled into a dark corner. A muffled yell escaped as I pulled away and spun around to find myself facing Eric.

"What are you_ doing_" I demanded.

His lips crashed onto mine and his tongue sought entry into my mouth. I let him in and then bit down hard on his tongue. He hissed and took a step away"what the fuck was_ that_ for" he demanded.

"Kissing me with out permission" I snapped and wrestled my arms from his, slapping him"_That_ was for manhandling me."

"I thought you liked that" he snapped"you've had enough men around you tonight to prove it! Why? Am I not good enough for you" he sneered.

"I don't want you kissing me" I said stubbornly.

"Everyone else does" he commented blandly.

"Guess what" I hissed"That's between me and them. If you come anywhere_ near_ me again, I will pin you to that wall with a knife in your balls" His hands had reached for me again, but I slapped them away blindly"don't_ TOUCH_ me" I shouted.

I turned to run, but found myself facing a large brick wall. I looked up to discover Eric's partner standing there looking smugly at me"I don't think Eric has finished_ talking_ to you" he sneered, taking a step forwards and forcing me backwards into Eric's arms.

I shivered and Eric laughed evilly"yeah, that's how you like it, isn't it? You want us to be a bit rough, huh"

The man in front of me stepped up, one leg on either side of mine a hand reaching under my top. I lifted my knee straight into his balls as hard as I could and knocked my head back, slamming Eric's into the wall. I pushed free of both of them and ran out of the supply closed they'd pulled me into.

I made my way up to the bar and ordered a drink, massaging my sore head and wincing in pain. Someone slid into the seat next to me and took over massaging for me. I looked over to see Ranger, looking worried.

"What happened" he asked.

I shrugged"nothing I didn't deserve."

He raised an eyebrow and I shrugged"don't worry about it" I said"it's not worth it."

"Where did Angelus go" he asked, thankfully changing the subject.

"He had to go home."

Ranger nodded, and watched as I took a sip of my drink (water)"how much have you had" he asked.

I thought about it and shrugged"maybe half of a tequila/lemonade."

"You're holding back" he looked at me"worried you'll lose control"

"Worried I won't be able to take care of myself" I said quietly.

He pulled me close"you don't have to" he murmured"I'll do it for you. I've got your back."


	11. Chapter Ten

**Breaking the Rules**

**Chapter 10**

**By Katherine**

_Renee: Advance payment for the last chapter of Paradise..._

I went on as normal for several days after the party. I would run each morning, check in with the RangeMan office and then drop in to Vinnie's pick up my skips and drop of my receipts. I would scout around for the skips during the day, before going for another run, and crashing in my bed absolutely exhausted.

Occasionally I would catch sight of Ranger at the office; he would pick up a file, flash Connie and Lula a smile and stroll into Vinnie's office. I was either on my way in or out of Vinnie's office when he arrived. The other guys called in to thank me for the night out at the party and check how I was going.

Eric had the indecency to call.

I told him what I_really_ thought about him.

It would have been more satisfying to break his nose.

Finally, however, Wednesday rolled around, and I ended the routine and made my way to the RangeMan building for the training day. I wondered how it would differ considering the presence of the three Manoso's.

Mara and I were the only girls in the ladies room and she smiled politely at me as she changed and I dumped my stuff in a locker. Where I arrived and trained in my day-to-day outfit, she was forced to change from a suit to takedown material. We made polite conversation until she was ready to go.

She was a petite thing, barely five feet, but without an ounce of unnecessary fat on her body. Her every move was graceful and controlled; probably she'd studied dance as a child. She wore a simple tracksuit and smiled at my questioning look"I'm never really in the line of fire" she said"at least, not anymore. I deal with the finance side of business, now."

I nodded my acknowledgement of the information; it made sense. There came a time when one's body couldn't keep up with the work it was being asked to do. Perhaps she saw no need to wait for the inevitable, but rather embraced it early. Probably I should think of something similar, but I didn't want to think about getting older.

As we left the room, she asked quietly"do you trust Ric"

I glanced at her and then shrugged"I don't know him." And I didn't. In fact, I doubted that I ever had. He was an enigma, always had been and probably always would be. I had trusted him implicitly before he left, but he had left and no longer would I so blindly trust those around me. Blind faith has been known to get you killed.

She nodded"he wants you to trust him" she said.

We joined everyone in the center of the room and Ranger started us through the warm-up. He raised an eyebrow at my presence, but didn't say anything, I smirked mentally - there was no doubt he was in for an interesting surprise today. We ran two miles as a group; at the pace Ranger set, and then ran at our own pace for three miles. This was the same warm-up that Jesus and Tank would put us through each week (and each day when I'd been in full-time training). I figured that Ranger would just follow the workout that we usually did.

For the three miles, I ran with my usual group; Lester, Tank and Kevin, and we led the field. The only way they had been able to get me running, was to ensure that I enjoyed it, so we had made a competition out of it. We ran at the same pace for most of the distance, but occasionally someone would make a play for front spot. This play resulted in us kicking up the pace to ensure that they didn't break from the group. At the end of every run, we were sprinting round the track (yes, RangeMan had an indoor track). As we passed the three-mile mark, all four of us collapsed on the ground, wheezing and laughing, endorphins rushing through our body.

Ranger, Diego and Mara were only a minute behind and jogged in looking relaxed and composed. Kevin, Lester, Bobby and I just lay there in a heap; our legs tangled and arms everywhere. Finally Lester untangled himself and gracefully stood up before turning to give Bobby a hand up. Kev and I unwound ourselves and stood up to watch the last few runners come round.

Our next stop was the gym where we all chose a machine and worked on it for twenty minutes, before the whole room would switch and repeat the process until you'd used all the cardio machines in the room. I took the Stairmaster first and powered up several hundred flights of stairs. After that I used the rowing machine and then the bike before finally I was free to use the cross-trainer. I had discovered that it was easier to start with the machine that worked my muscles and joints hardest first, and gradually ease off, thus I followed the same routine week-in-week-out. Sweat was dripping off us all at this point and we took a five-minute break to change shirts and clean towels before we faced Resistance Training.

I had been given full training in the best way to ensure your muscles are working and forced myself to work until they quivered - that's the only true sign you will get of how successful your workout is. By the end of an hour of weight training, every muscle in my body had taken to shaking and I ended it. Standard weights for a woman to lift with her arms using machines was 20-30kg, I worked with 40. Legs, standard weight was 30-40kg, I used 80. My legs were what kept me alive and they had to be powerful to do so.

Finally we broke for a two-hour lunch break. I changed into a swimsuit and headed to the spa room, where four large spas were available for use. I often did this in between two stages in our workout because otherwise my muscles would cramp up during the afternoon session. Almost everyone joined me and we let the steamy water relax muscles and ease tension from our bodies.

Ella and Eliza had prepared a feast fit for kings when we returned topside, and I took the opportunity to talk to Eliza and see how she was doing. I asked bluntly, knowing that it tended to get a better result.

"I'm alright, Stephanie" she said"I just signed a contract with RangeMan to be Ella's assistant. My husband can no longer bother me, or anybody else."

"Is there anything you need" I asked"Do you have a place to stay"  
Tentatively she said"I think I need to speak to... someone, about what happened."  
"I'll organize it" I promised, mentally making a note of the promise. I smiled at her"I'm glad it's working out for you."

She returned my smile hesitantly and then went back to her lunch. I turned to mine and started to nibble at the chicken salad in front of me. Gradually I became alert enough to tune into the conversation around me, and heard Kevin being grilled about his girlfriend - everyone wanted to know when he'd crack. A lot of money was riding on his willpower or lack thereof.

Mara called down from the head of the table, when everyone appeared to be losing interest in the conversation"I've heard interesting rumors about you and Stephanie, Kevin" she said"Do you want to fill us in"

I cut my eyes to Kevin and silently warned him to be_very_ careful. He nodded and opened his mouth when Eric stepped in"She's a slut, he's a guy. What more needs to be said" his voice was cool and his eyes blank as he looked at me.

My eyes hardened as I returned his gaze, not giving an inch. When he lowered his gaze, I looked him up and down "at least I'm a slut with standards" I murmured, receiving an amused chuckle from the men in the room.

"You certainly didn't have any complaints the other night" Eric's partner sneered"or were we too much man for you"

There was a hushed intake of breath from around the table as the implications of that statement sunk in. My anger rose, but ruthlessly I quashed it and glared at him"I was prepared to be magnanimous" I said coolly"and forget about that incident, but if you_really_ want to talk about it..."

They both paled, and I smirked"I didn't think so" I murmured with an ironic twist to my lips.

"Do you want to fill us in, Angel" Lester asked, looking between the three of us in confusion.

I glanced at the other two as they shook their heads and shook my own"can't say as I do" I said, taking a mouthful of my salad and chewing.

"Eric"

"Nah, uh" Eric shook his head"I ain't saying nothing."

"Blue" so_that_ was his name. I had rarely had anything to do with Eric and only knew his name because he was such a pain in the ass. Lester was beginning to get frustrated, I could tell, but I didn't say anything.

'Blue' widened his eyes and said innocently"there ain't anything to talk about."

"This anything to do with your split lip, Babe" Ranger asked.

Kevin looked up and then glanced between Eric, Blue and I, his eyes widening"they_didn't_" he hissed at me"did they"

I didn't say anything, but that was all the confirmation he needed. He stood up with a roar, pushing everything and everyone out of his way as he tried to get to Eric and Blue. He was quickly restrained, however, by two of the men between him and them, who'd had time to react.

"Kevin" I hissed"stop it. I'm dealing with it, alright."

"Steph, they"

"Kevin"

But, they"

"I know exactly what they did" my voice got softer and more predatory by the minute"but I can fight my own battles, particularly with the likes of_them_."

He bowed his head and then nodded"alright" he said, but turned to them"I will_never_ get your back" he said"if a bullet gets you between the eyes, it'll be nothing less than you deserve."

Our afternoon training began with an hour at the gun range as everyone allowed their food the chance to be digested before we hit the mats for combat training. Each of us took one of the pre-prepared duffel bags containing five different firearms, and went into a booth, loading up a target.

I fired off two boxes of bullets with each weapon and took down my five targets, dating them and slipping them into my bag. I cleaned the weapons and returned them to their duffel, and the duffel to its locker, before I set up to practice with my own weapons. Being more experienced with them; I set the target further away and was more specific in what I was aiming for. A further four boxes later, I finally reholstered my last gun and left the range.

Everyone else was already on the mats, practicing various moves with their partner. Kevin was working with Tank, as Jesus had recently announced his plans to step further away from the physical aspects of RangeMan work, thus Tank would need a new partner. Diego and Ranger were sparring and that left Mara and I staring at each other across the mats.

I raised an eyebrow questioningly, and she nodded a sardonic smirk around her mouth. We circled each other for a few minutes, warming and loosening our muscles before the first attack was launched. Her leg swung around in a graceful arc. I dropped to the floor and then bounced back up, shooting out my own leg in a quick jab-like kick. The first lesson I'd learnt about fighting was that no move was forbidden - in the fights I'd be in, at least.

She sucked in her stomach and shuffled back, swinging around from the momentum of her last kick. She tried to punch, but she was fighting textbook and I'd never been taught textbook, so I dodged rather than blocked, and used moves that couldn't be found in any textbook. Eventually, I tired of dodging and ducking and the weak attacks I was using, and so I shot out my arm and grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her towards me. She stumbled as I did so, and made it easy for me to get her face down on the ground.

"Well done" She murmured.

I let her up and she faced me"How long have you been doing this" she asked"fighting, that is."

"Maybe a year" I shrugged"why? How long have you been training"

"My whole life" she shook her head, sounding frustrated "how did you beat me" she asked.

I laughed"You fight like the book tells you to" I said finally"I've never read the book. I fight like my gut tells me to. You're slow - because you're trying to look graceful. I'm fast, and I look rough and untrained - people underestimate that." I smiled"trust your instincts more - when you're on the street, the book and the rules... they don't matter."

She nodded"can you show me that thing you did with your leg to get me to the ground" she asked finally.

"Sure" I nodded, and pulled her towards me, ignoring the watching eyes from around the hall. It was unsurprising that we'd gained an audience - two girls fighting_always_ seemed to garner attention. I showed her the move in slow motion, doing it one step at a time. It was a move Tank had taught me to help me overcome people larger than me. I showed it to her twice and then switched so she could practice on me. We went through the move step-by-step twice and then I let her make the moves as fast or as slow as she needed to get it right. It only took about twenty minutes before she could spin me to the ground and have me subdued in seconds.

I showed her one of the ways to counter a move like this and had her practice it before nodding"you're good" I said finally"that took me a month to get."

She grinned"I practice a lot" she agreed, offering me her hand and pulling me up.  
Applause went around the room and we both grinned and took a bow. "Shall we partner up for the combat room" I asked with a smirk"I have no doubt we could take care of these guys."

She agreed and like the guys, we swapped our weapons for the practice ones being used in the combat room. Everyone skulked in and the lights went out for thirty seconds, giving everyone a chance to position himself or herself.

Except my cell phone got a message, it vibrated on my hip.

I glanced at the message and almost passed out, it was a 911 from Tate.

"Shit" I swore out loud"I have to go." I stumbled towards the door.

The lights flicked back on and I came face to face with a concerned Ranger"What's the matter babe"

"I don't know" I said"Tate's in trouble."

"Angelus" Diego asked, his voice a growl.

I nodded"I have to go."

"He can handle himself" Diego countered.

"He wouldn't call me if he didn't need my help" I snapped.

"You should just leave him to die."

"Babe, whatever Angelus is in trouble over, it's got to be bad. You can't just"

"I know exactly what Tate's involved in" I said frostily"so I know what sort of trouble it could be. Now if you'll excuse me" I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Tate's number.

"_Hello!_" A shaky female voice answered in a whisper.

"Sienna" I demanded, recognizing the voice"its Steph. What's wrong, honey? Why did T send me a 911" I was pacing and worried.

"Oh god, Steph" she moaned"it's_them_! They came back."

"Them" I questioned"who are they? Is Tate alright"

"_Them!_" she snapped"from high school"

I know I must have paled dramatically at that, but the thought chilled me all the way to my bones"no" I shook my head, fear clouding my thinking"no, it can't be." My pacing was frenzied and my breathing shallow"Si, is Tate okay"

"I " she didn't answer.

"Si! Answer me" I snapped"is Tate alright"

"No" she started to cry"they cut him."

I shivered; I knew what that meant"okay, Si. Hold it together. I'm on my way, honey. I'll have you out of there real soon, I promise."

"Stephy, I can't"

"You have to be strong" I countered firmly"where are you and is Tate with you"

"Tate's with them" she gasped out and I felt the last of the blood in my head drain out"but I got out. I'm in a diner near home."

"Okay" I said, my pacing slightly less frenetic as I realized she wasn't in too much danger, I thought for a moment "rip your clothes a bit, roll in some rubbish and go to a homeless shelter" I instructed her"have you got any weapons on you"

"No" she moaned.

"How about money"

"No"

I thought about that for a minute"okay, hide out at the shelter, I'm on the next plane out of Trenton. I'll be there tonight. I'll call you when I arrive, just stay calm."

"Don't go to LA" her voice was softer than a whisper, but she was calming down, and that was good. "We're in D.C."

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING THERE" I exploded in fury"YOU_KNOW_ HOW DANGEROUS IT IS THERE! HAVE YOU BOTH LOST YOUR FREAKING MINDS"

"Steph, calm the _fuck_ down" Kevin was behind me.

"I'm_sorry_" Sienna mumbled"it wasn't our fault"

"I know, honey" I said"you just stay safe. I'll call you."

She hung up.

Another phone-call quickly disabused me of my original plan to fly; the next flight wasn't for four hours and it would be faster for me to drive. I started pacing, trying to work out what I needed, I muttered to myself"guns, knifes, vests, clothes, money, food, ride, accommodation." I paused"I can't just walk in guns blazing. Sienna hates her gun more than_I_ do" I paused again"but they'll have theirs, and they're trained. SHIT" I mumbled"trust fucking Tate to leave this to me"

Finally I stopped my pacing and turned around"I need a fast, safe way to get to D.C." I said.

"What's going on, Steph" Kevin demanded"you're about to go wheeling off to D.C. - why"

"Tate and Sienna are in trouble."

"What kind of trouble" Ranger asked.

"Bad trouble" I said. Like there's any other_kind_ of trouble!

"Business related" he asked.

"History related" I returned"can you help me with my transport problem"  
He threw me the keys to his truck"it's cleared for speeding" he said with a smile"no cop will pull you over, no matter what."

"I assume it's got GPS and extra cladding" I asked.

"And a tamper-alert system" he nodded"why? You think you'll need it"

"Yeah" I said shortly, leaving the room to get my extra guns from my gun locker at RangeMan. They all followed me.

"Do you need backup" this was Tank.

I shook my head"no." There was no_way_ I was taking any of my friends into this situation - it was personal and besides, none of them seemed to like Tate; I didn't want to risk his potential survival. I grabbed the spare Kevlar vest I kept here, and threw it into my bag. I loaded half the weapons into Kevin's arms, and half into Bobby's.

"How long will you be gone" Tank quizzed.

"Hopefully two days" I replied"maybe a week."

"Call if you'll be longer."

"I'll call or I'll be dead." I said over my shoulder as I continued down the stairs, followed closely by all the RangeMen.

"Dead" Tank demanded.

"If you hear of a Jane Doe found dead in D.C. with face and body mutilated beyond recognition, assume it's me." I said, forcing my voice to remain unemotional.

I opened the door to the Truck and quickly searched all the different compartments, finding numerous explosive devices, weapons and technical gizmos. I glanced at Ranger"you mind if I borrow these" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Tank, make sure you pay him back whatever this is worth, from the inheritance fund" I motioned to the car"if anything happens to me, or it."

"Not necessary, babe" Ranger said and looked like he was about to say something more.

I turned back to the car and shoved the one gun that I couldn't find a holster for under the passenger seat of car and climbed in, throwing everything else into the boot. Kevin and Bobby placed their handful of weapons in the back. They were older, less practical weapons that I had learnt how to use and owned because the guys had said I had to. Normally I wouldn't bother with them but I was about to strip my apartment of all its weapons and I wouldn't feel comfortable returning to it if I didn't replace them before I left. I threw a smirk at Ranger"If you want to see my home" I said"tail me."

I pulled up outside my apartment building and swore furiously when I saw my parents standing at the door. "Go away" I hissed at them"now is_not_ a good time. I've got an urgent trip to make. We'll talk when I get back."

My mother burst into tears, but I didn't say anything, looking at her coldly. My father looked at me"We're sorry, Stephanie" he said.

I nodded"I figured you would be" I didn't bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. "I don't mean to be this rude" I said bluntly"but I have to go to Tate and Sienna. They're in D.C."

My father paled, his eyes widening"you're going back there" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you need anything" He knew the history behind these events, knew why I had to go, who was behind it and why Tate and Sienna had been taken. The past eighteen months were irrelevant now that this matter had come up.

"I'll call if something comes up" I said.

He nodded"come on, Ellen" he led my mother away, and I raced up into the building and up the stairs, Ranger keeping up with me, the RangeMan crew following more sedately.

I swiped my security pass through and entered the code. I went straight to my bedroom, stepped into my walk in robe and threw a bag to Ranger; "I need six pairs of the pants in the top left drawer and twelve of the tops in the one below it. Twelve pairs of panties and sports bra's which you'll find in the drawer below that, six pairs of socks, three sets of trainers and three of the black jackets"

He nodded and immediately set to work. I went to one of the sets of drawers, opened the top one and pressed a few buttons on the keypad that was under the towels. It beeped and I then pressed my finger to a gel pad for fingerprint-identification. When it was finished, the drawers below it opened up as one so that I could access the safe. I tapped in the first sequence of codes, then the second until finally it swung open.

Ranger was watching me, I could tell. "You were at the club that night, weren't you" I demanded.

"Yes" he said"you knew" it was a question to which he knew the answer.

I didn't respond.

The safe had three levels: the bottom one held piles of ten, twenty and hundred dollar bills, the second one held a single white box and the top one had all my important paperwork. I grabbed five of the bundles of cash, which gave me five thousand. Then I pulled everything from the top shelf down on to the floor and motioned for Ranger to sit down.

He was staring at the pile in shock, and not at the money. There were approximately twenty different passports on the floor. Each one had inside it all the paperwork that complimented the ID, including Credit Cards, social security details and tax file numbers. I flipped open the first page of one of the British passports and glanced through the ID - Samantha Plynn - and passed it to Ranger"put it in the compartment at the bottom" I instructed.

"How did you get these" he asked, complying with my request.

"Tate" I said simply - I'd had them for years, except until recently they'd been in a safety deposit box at the bank.

He nodded and I passed him my real passport, and another fake. He put the real one in the normal part of the bag and slipped the fake one in with the money and other bits and pieces in the 'invisible' compartment.

The last item I dealt with, was the single white box. I grabbed it and opened it, removing the necklace from it and fastening it around my neck. Ranger studied it for a moment"you're part of Angelus' Elite" he asked.

The necklace had two wings that rested upon my collarbone, and this was the symbol that all members of the 'Elite' squad of Tate's collective had tattooed onto their collarbone when they were initiated. I could see where Ranger was coming from, clearly he'd met the Elite.

I shook my head"I'm part of his family" I corrected"he gave me this so that I could fly." I smiled faintly"those were his words. In D.C., however, they will give me authority."

He nodded.

Finally satisfied with my preparations, I shut the safe, set all the locks and walked out of my wardrobe. I stepped into my living room, where Kevin and Bobby were standing beside a pile of guns, with the rest of RangeMan watching silently. I took three of the guns and returned to my room, swapping them with the one under my pillow, the one strapped under my bed and the one strapped behind the bathroom door.

Back in the living room, I put these guns into the large duffel that Ranger had stuffed with my clothes, and then grabbed one from under the coffee table and swapped it with one of the ones in front of Bobby and Kev. I looked at the four remaining ones, and then shrugged, stowing them under my kitchen sink.

Tank looked disgusted.

"Nothing I can do about it now" I said"I have to be in D.C in four hours. I'll deal with this all when I get back."

He nodded"Are you sure you don't need backup"

"I can't_have_ backup" I said firmly.

I threw the duffel over my shoulder"everybody_out_" I said, motioning them out the door. I set all the alarms and locked up. At the Truck, I threw the duffel into the boot with all the other gear and went to each of the guys and kissed them on the cheek, I doubted I'd be seeing them again - this wasn't a mission, which I expected to return alive from.

Finally I slipped into the front seat, shut the door and started the car. I was about to drive off when the passenger door was opened and a body swung in beside me.

I turned to glare at the man"What do you think you're doing, Ranger" I demanded.

"Coming with you" he said.

"_Why_" I demanded.

"You need backup."

"No" I shook my head"I told you! I can't_have_ backup on this."

"Why not" he hissed"even I take backup on every mission I do"

"This isn't a mission" I said quietly"this is revenge."

"Against who"

I didn't answer. I looked at him for a minute, his jaw set and his arms crossed - for a man who was generally unexpressive; he was quite open about his determination to accompany me. I glanced at the clock and swore; I didn't have time to argue with him.

"Alright" I said"you can come, but you'll do exactly what I tell you."

"Babe"

"No" I shook my head"That's the only way I'm letting you come. You don't know the plot here."

"I don't care about the plot" he said stubbornly. I had a brief flashback to a time when he'd been my Henry Higgins and had said, 'you don't care about the plot, you just get them back into the system'.

"This is one of those exceptions" I sneered; when it came to skips back then, I'd been the queen of exceptions: my first was innocent, I befriended others and became the next target for yet more"the plot is very important. I'll explain part of it as we drive" I said"but we're only going if you agree to do what I say. Otherwise I'll shoot you and leave you somewhere between here and D.C."

He sighed"alright, you're in charge."

I nodded and pulled out of the parking space with a wave to the RangeMan crew, who were now muttering amongst themselves


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Breaking the Rules**

**Chapter Eleven**

**By Katherine**

I sat there in silence; Ranger's presence was unlikely to go down well with Sienna, or Tate - assuming he was still coherent when we got to him. We were driving at well over 100 mph, swerving in and out of the other cars rapidly, and racing towards the last place I wanted to go.

"What's going on, Babe" Ranger asked. I was surprised he'd waited this long to ask the question, as I'd made no movement towards explaining what was going on. He deserved an explanation, though.

Unsure how I could answer his question, I stayed silent a moment, and he was forced to prompt me"Babe"

"I'm thinking" I said softly, trying to decide how to explain. I'd not spoken of this business with anyone since it happened, until now, and now I not only had to fill him in but get back into the scene, again. It was one of the few periods in my life that left me with residual nightmares. I didn't want to go back there. Tate and Sienna were the only things that could have dragged me there.

Finally I mentally said, to hell with it, and started talking"It was the summer before college and Tate asked me to take my holiday with Sienna and him. He had to take over the organization because his father had been killed and wanted me to look after Sienna, his younger sister. Except things went badly wrong that holiday, he was new to the scene and managed to unknowingly upset a very important person who didn't take kindly to being insulted" I sighed"long story short, Tate took Sienna and I to Washington to try and undo the damage. Except the apology wasn't accepted."

I was hoping that I could skim over what happened as a result of this, and took the time to phrase my words carefully; knowing that a poorly structured sentence would clue someone like Ranger into my deception, and I wasn't ready to talk about that yet.

He waited for me to continue, and gradually I started to speak again"They escaped, and managed to leave a nasty dent in the force of this gentlemen - who was_ persuaded_ to seek no retaliation." I sighed, remembering that… conversation… vividly"he agreed, so long as none of us returned to Washington."

"And the Angelus' did" Although phrased as a question, it wasn't really one, so I didn't bother responding as such.

"They're holding Tate at the moment" I said"and did have Sienna, but she escaped." I paused"and they'll be waiting until they have her present before they do_ too_ much." And until I'm there, I thought silently.

"They" he asked.

"Yeah, it would probably help if I told you who you are putting yourself up against, wouldn't it" I frowned"what do you know about business in Washington"

"It's closely linked to politics"

I frowned; it was_ my_ job to make seemingly witty one-liners while he was supposed to just know these things. "No" I said"not the mob. The mob doesn't care about politics."

"Right" he agreed"because they've all got a politician lining their back pockets."

I nodded"exactly."

He didn't say anything, so I started to explain the Washington organization. I was fairly sure he was well up to speed on them, but I might as well ensure we were working from the same page; "there are three main factions" I said"there is the Nine, an international group headed by a board of nine men, rumored to be the most vicious and dangerous you will ever encounter. There is also a family organization, run by a Cypriot patriarch and this group is closely tied to the Ramos family, they call themselves the Diamonds and nobody has ever discovered their surname." I paused thoughtfully"The other group is a vigilante group, which is assumed to be a black ops division of the army used to keep politicians in line."

"So who are we against" he asked"I'm assuming not the Diamonds, since Angelus and Ramos were close."

I nodded my agreement of his assessment"The Nine" I said quietly.  
His jaw slipped slightly and his grip on the handrail tightened so much his knuckles whitened"I see" he said through clenched teeth.

"How much do you know about the Nine" I asked"You've obviously come across them before." A clenched jaw from a man as controlled as Ranger is a sure sign that you've surprised him.

"They used to be a ten-person board" Ranger said and I blinked - that was very rare knowledge to have"but the chairman of the board, so to speak, was assassinated about seventeen years ago. He was never replaced and so the title the Nine became more accurate. They run an international drug ring out of Washington, and ship guns to most places America would prefer didn't get any" he paused glancing at me, "Nobody knows their names or what they look like" he said"nor exactly what they're capable of."

"Not quite true" I shook my head"they are capable of anything and everything needed to get the job done. Their names are in a secure folder in a safety deposit box, as are photos of each of them."

"I see." Ranger looked at me"how did you get all that" he asked"Ramos"

I shook my head"I'd rather not say" I said quietly.

"People would pay millions of dollars for that information" he said mildly, watching my reactions.

"I know" I said.

"And you have it in a safety deposit box"

I nodded shortly.

"But nobody knows you have it"

I shook my head, no.

There was a sigh"what's the information worth to_ you_" he asked.

"It's priceless" I shrugged"and worthless."

"You won't be giving the information away, then"

My foot slipped on the accelerator and we jerked forwards. That information had cost me dearly and I had no plans to just _give_ it away.

"No."

"I would pay handsomely for it" he commented.

"I'm sure you would" I said dryly.

Anyone who'd ever_ heard_ of the Nine would pay dearly to get their hands on the file. Nobody knew_ anything_ about the Nine, except that they were very, very dangerous and if they were after you, your days were numbered. Everyone who'd heard of them had a story to tell - they either worked for them, or had known someone who'd been taken out by them. I wondered which side Ranger fell on; I wouldn't put it past him to have been on both sides of the equation.

The truth was, he would have to see the file when we got to Washington, otherwise he would be of little use on this operation - it never hurt to know who your enemies were. The knowledge was not knowledge to be kept sacred, but it was dangerous to have. Sharing it with Ranger would, I hoped, mean that gradually the information was disseminated through the streets and perhaps, if I couldn't, someone could take revenge upon them.

"Why is it important to you" I asked after a moment.

He didn't answer straight away, but when he did his voice was tight with suppressed emotion"they enticed my adoptive brother into their world" he said"and then killed him when he made a mistake."

"Oh" That wasn't the worst the Nine had done, not be a long shot.

"They got tied him to a wall" he said"And turned his skin into ribbons, before leaving him on my mothers door. When she got up to get the paper the next morning, it was lying on his chest, soaked with blood. He was still alive, and died in her arms."

I gasped, the visual was bad and the pain in Ranger's voice so unusual I couldn't help but feel sympathetic to his plight. "Your poor mother" I breathed.

"She went catatonic after that" he said bitterly"and hasn't come around yet."

I winced in sympathy, suddenly understanding why he'd always been so close-mouthed about himself"I'll show you the file" I said after a moment"but you can't take any action for revenge until Tate is safe."

He nodded.

"I need your word" I said fiercely"Otherwise; there is nothing on this earth that will make me give you the file."

"You have my word that I will take no action against the Nine for personal reasons until Tate Angelus and his sister are safe."

I nodded"Thank you." His promise was valuable because I knew he would not make a promise he couldn't and wouldn't deliver on.

We were nearing Washington at this point, and I pulled over"you're driving" I said, jumping out and changing places with him. He swapped quickly and we were back on the road in mere moments. I dialed Tate's number again, and Sienna picked it up breathlessly.

"Steph"

"I'm just driving into D.C." I said"Can you meet us at the diner"

"How long will you be"

I thought about it for a minute"maybe twenty minutes. Can you order for three"

"Three"

"I brought a friend."

"Why" she was defensive and aggressive"that's risky."

"He wouldn't take no" I returned; "and trust me. He may come in handy."

"Same diner as we used to" she sighed.

"Yeah"

"See you in twenty."

We disconnected. I was quietly relieved that she sounded more relaxed and in-control than she had last time I'd spoken to her.

"There's more than one diner in Washington" Ranger commented.

"We speak a different language" I replied with a smile"I'll give you directions."

We pulled up in front of a small apartment building, and I gave Ranger full instructions"you'll grab one of the duffel bags from the boot" I said"and I'll grab the other. We're going to go into that door, smile at the doorman and you'll say 'good evening, Charles'. He will reply with a comment about the weather." I paused"press the down button on the elevator, while I visit the concierge."

"That's a serious procedure, babe" his voice was smooth"especially to get into a diner."

"This is a serious matter,_ babe_" I said almost mockingly, rolling my eyes at the diner comment - diners were far too public for what was about to go down!

We climbed out of the car, both grabbing a bag from the back and strolling over to the building. As we entered, Ranger said smoothly"Good evening, Charles." He spoke in a smooth, creamy voice that had me almost shivering from the naked sex appeal he oozed.

Damn the man! He wasn't supposed to be able to do that!

The man at the door, a round-faced, smiling gentleman with a potbelly crammed into his suit bowed"It's a pleasure to have you return to us, Sir" he said"and you've come at just the right time, the weather is supposed to improve in the next few days."

'Thank you, Charles" I smiled as we stepped fully inside. Ranger walked straight to the elevator and pressed the button to go down. I made my way to the concierge and picked up a copy of the newspaper and a few other notices. I returned to Ranger as the elevator arrived. We both climbed inside and I pressed the button marked P, which was listed under C2, the underground car park. The elevator moved up, however, and Ranger shifted"interesting" he murmured.

Stepping out of the lift, we were faced with the barrel of a gun, unfazed I repeated several numbers and waited for her question.

"Who was your first kiss" she asked.

"Tate" I said. Ranger threw me an amused glance, although keeping a wary eye on the gun.

"And mine"

"Morelli." Ranger scowled at that one.

"Manoso's" He looked at me worriedly, when he heard_ that_ question.

"I don't know" I murmured"He's not told me."

The gun was lowered and she grinned"It was his sister's best friend" she said with a smile, flashing a grin at him"Lea." She sighed"It's good to see you again, Steph."

I pulled her to me in a firm hug"you too, Si. Are you okay"

She made a face"I've been better. They've not changed, Steph, they're still the same bastards as ever and they've got my brother" her voice rose progressively, and I sighed; Sienna had hysterical tendencies and they would only be a hindrance at the moment.

I sat her down in the sofa and slapped her cheek lightly; "Snap out of it, honey" I said"We've got work to do. You can have your hysterics after we've got Tate here, okay"

She took a few calming breaths, and then nodded"what's he here for" she asked, flicking her head towards Ranger.

Wincing I said softly"he wouldn't stay behind. I was training with them when you called."

"Oh." She looked between us; "does he know the story"

"The highlights."

"And who they are"

I nodded.

"And he still wants in"

I glanced at him"I don't know," I admitted, "I haven't asked him since I told him the story" I turned to face him"do you still want in"

"I told you, babe" he said seriously, his eyes holding mine in a mesmerizing gaze"I've got your back."

We'd argued after he'd told me that at the club, I'd frozen up when he'd said that - because until he'd left, it had been the truth, but then he'd left and I'd been forced to watch my own back most of the time. His statement that he 'always had my back' really upset me when I thought about the past eighteen months, how could he say something like that? He didn't understand. I'd bitterly left the club after that, my emotions whirling and my thoughts unbalanced.

Maybe, though, he had been telling the truth; maybe he really_ did_ 'have my back'. I gave a mental sigh and shook my head, now was not the time to be thinking about things like that; we had work to do.

"We set" I asked Sienna.

She nodded, looking between Ranger and me with a mystified expression, finally resting her eyes on me"yeah, everything's in the living room. Can you give Manoso the tour"

"Dump the bag here" I instructed Ranger, pointing to a corner, and dumping my own duffel"I'll show you around our apartment."

We stepped out of the hallway and into the living room. There was a television, a sofa and two armchairs in green leather. There was a window, too, which looked over a park, but the curtains had been closed and were not to be opened while we were present. "This is our living room; all planning will be done here. Don't touch the curtains and don't use the television." I said quietly, leading him into a small room off to the side"this is the kitchen. It's fully stocked. Help yourself. If something runs out, make a note of it here" I pointed to a notepad beside the fridge. "If it's urgent, put it in the dumbwaiter and press 4." I instructed.

"There are also maids' quarters through the back" I motioned to a door on the other side of the kitchen"we don't use those and that door has been cemented shut." I led him back into the living room and through to the other side where there was a small hallway"this is Sienna's bedroom" I pointed to one on the left"this is mine" one on the right"this is Tate's" the one at the end of the corridor. "We don't have a spare room, so you'll be sharing with me" I led him into my room.

My space here had always been sparsely decorated, as was my space at any of the apartments owned by the Angelus. It was done in cream and faded greens, and everything from the thick carpet to the bedspread matched. Opposite the entrance, there were two doors, and I led Ranger over"walk in robe" I pointed to the one on the right"bathroom" one on the left.

"Emergency weapons are strapped under the bed" I informed him"under the pillows, as well as in the wardrobe along the walls, throughout the bathroom and between the bedside tables and the walls. So long as you don't harm Sienna, Tate or I, you are free to help yourself. Let me know which ones you've taken, however, so I don't reach for them in an emergency."

He nodded once.

"Tate's clothes should fit you, for now" I said thoughtfully"and we'll send Charles out with your measurements to get anything you need."

"Babe, I can go myself" Ranger said with a faint smile.

I shook my head"No, you can't. Now that you're here, we won't be leaving until we go to rescue Tate. Haven't you noticed how secure this place is? This is a fortress and each time we come and go, the security is weakened slightly."

"Do you come here often" he asked finally.

"This is only the second time I've been" I admitted.

"Yet you know the procedure so well" he was thinking aloud, and I was surprised - Ranger would usually keep thoughts like that to himself.

"This isn't the only 'diner' I've had to use" I said with a smile"there are apartments like these spread throughout the country."

He nodded"makes sense."

Sienna came in at that moment, hauling both duffel bags"Here you go. I put everything away that you don't need at the moment" she said"coffee is brewing and dinner's almost finished."

"Thanks; Si" I smiled at her"we'll be out in a minute. We're just going to raid Tate's wardrobe and then send down measurements for Charlie."

"Sure" she smiled, despite the tension I could see thrumming in her muscles"he's already brought us the file, so when you're ready, we need to get to work."

"Don't worry" I said"we'll get him back."

"I know" she sounded doubtful"but I keep remembering last time. He doesn't need that, not now."

Raiding Tate's wardrobe had provided Ranger with a change in attire that he was prepared to wear, since I'd managed to locate the black shirts and pants hidden behind Tate's less monotone wardrobe. We then took the important measurements and noted his favorite brands and sent the list to Charles to obtain a week worth of clothing for him.

Finally Ranger and I joined Sienna in the living room where she was pouring a mug of coffee for herself.

"I hope you like lasagna" She said to Ranger"I'm afraid it's the only thing I can cook."

"Lasagna is fine" he agreed.

"Well, we'll just finish coffee, first" she said"because we need to talk about how we're going to handle this." She poured a mug for both Ranger and I and we all sat down. She and Ranger both sat on the sofa, and I chose an armchair, curling my legs up under me.

"How much does he know about the Nine" she asked me.

"A fair bit" I admitted"he knows about Gregor and he knows what they do, but he doesn't have names or faces. He's never dealt with them personally." I was thoughtful"but he's had dealings with them, I think."

She nodded"So you know quite a bit" she directed at Ranger"do you like them or not"

"Not" he said curtly.

"Good" she nodded"because the only plan I could come up with" she said"is take down the organization." She sounded very proud of herself, for someone who'd just suggested the impossible, I thought sourly.

"And how do you propose we do this" Ranger asked, looking bemused.

"Now there's the best part" She smiled"if we take out the Nine, the other groups in the area will take care of their minions."

It wasn't actually a bad plan, I realized when I thought about it, but there were more holes in it than Swiss cheese. I sighed"Let's call that Plan B, shall we" I said after a moment.

"So what's Plan A" she demanded.

"Get Tate out of there and get the hell out of D.C." I said with a scowl"I_ hate_ this city. Makes me shiver in fear."

She nodded wisely"are you alright? I'd forgotten about that."

"I'll be fine, but I'd prefer not to have to spend more time than necessary here." I said quietly. I took a deep breath, ignoring the questioning gaze sent my way and continued; "you need to explain why you and Tate were here in D.C." I said quietly"you know we swore we would never return."

"It really wasn't our fault" she said, her voice dropping to a whisper"We were on our way to a meeting and our plane got diverted because of the weather. We landed here and were told to hang around the airport for a few hours in the hopes that the weather would clear. I went to the bathroom, and the next thing I knew I was back in the room" Her voice rose in pitch as she was telling us, and when she continued, I could understand why"Tate was opposite me, hanging spread-eagled against the wall. He was bleeding all over his face" she started to rock back and forth.

I reached over and slapped her, knowing that it was the only way to break her out of one of her hysterical moments. If she could remain calm Sienna was one of the smartest and most reliable people to have around. She was generally calm and in control at all times, however, the threat to herself and her brother was clearly too much for her usually tight control. Ranger frowned at the slap I gave her and I shrugged"trust me; this is what needs to be done." I said softly.

"Stop slapping me" she scowled.

"Stop going hysterical on me" I returned the scowl"You know how you get"

She sighed"Sorry."

"Me too" I returned the gesture"now keep talking."

"He talked to me" she said after a minute"because I started to panic and wouldn't calm down" which, in Sienna-speak, meant she'd gone hysterical"and finally he persuaded me to pick my way out of the cuffs."

"With what" I asked.

"You forgot how I did it last time" she smirked.

I rolled my eyes"Right, how could I forget." Because her hair was long and wispy, Sienna tended to use hundreds of hairpins to keep it closely pinned to her head, and give the illusion that it was sleek and smooth. She's used a hairpin last time to pick her way out"remind me never to complain about your hairpins" I said.

"Then I went to get him out" she paled as she remembered"but there was_ no lock_" she frowned"It was like they'd melted the cuffs to the wall around him. He told me to call you and made me swap phones with him, because your number isn't programmed onto mine and he didn't want them to get hold of it. Then I climbed out the window and ran to the diner."

"You mean the one where"

"Yeah" she whispered softly.

I nodded"so they have Tate in the same place" I said thoughtfully"Damn, that's complicated. But on a positive, it doesn't sound like they want to kill him straight away."

"Do you want to explain all that to me" Ranger sounded mildly amused.

"When we were taken last time" Sienna said"we were held in a small apartment on the eighth floor of a building about twenty blocks from here. There's a diner nearby, a real one" She added with a Jersey-like roll of the eyes at his expression. "They had us at the same apartment again, and I went to the same Diner. Only difference was that I was alone" she scowled"I want to kill the_ bastardo!_"

I was amused; it wasn't often that Sienna swore, let alone in a foreign language. It usually meant she was beyond pissed off and to steer clear of her.

"Control" I said quietly.

She responded by making a big show of taking deep breaths.

"Let's eat while we think about this" Ranger advised"and we can plan after we've eaten. I still don't think you've told me everything, and I need to work out what's going on before I'll be any use."

"No offense, Batman" Sienna said"but chances are you'll be more of a hindrance than a help."

He looked taken a-back at that and threw me a questioning glance"Long story" I said. I wasn't sure I agreed with her assessment of his role, but I wasn't sure I disagreed either - his presence could send this mission either way and I wasn't sure how to predict which way it was going to go.

We served up the Lasagna and sat down on the sofas again, eating a TV dinner, without the benefit of TV. It was amusing, however, to see Ranger sitting cross-legged at one end of the sofa, balancing a plate of Lasagna on his lap and holding a knife and fork pointing upwards, a quizzical expression on his face as he chewed"This is_ great_" he said.

"Thanks" Sienna smiled"it's my grandmother's recipe."

"Well it's delicious" he said"what's the secret ingredient"

"Actually, it's all about replacing the cheese with a variant" she said with a shrug"gives it an added flavor and texture."

Sienna and I kept throwing concerned glances at each other, as our thoughts remained centered on Tate. How were we going to be able to rescue him? How would we end this once and for all? I knew the thoughts were running rampantly across my face and I knew my greatest fear was evident to Sienna at least; how was I going to handle seeing that room again? Remembering what went on in there? Facing the people who'd done it?

"What support have we got" I asked Sienna, when we finished our meal.

"The Elites will be arriving tomorrow" she said briefly.

"That's all"

"The Elites are a deadly force, Babe" Ranger said quietly"surely they will be enough."

"She's right" Sienna interrupted"who else do you think we need" she asked me"Who else would go up against the Nine"

"The Diamonds" I queried"Surely they would help us"

"Unless they are forced to, I doubt it" She said with a sigh"we have been less than kind as we quashed their attempts to open an office in LA."

"Alexander would lean on them" I said.

"I don't wish him to be involved" she said stiffly"he could be more trouble than he's worth."

I frowned"What about the government group"

"We don't know which way they lean" she frowned"if we approach them and it goes badly, they could forewarn the Nine. Besides, I wouldn't put it past them to wait until he's dead before taking them down."

Slowly I nodded"you have a point. So who do you suggest"

She looked meaningfully at the silver wings resting upon my neck.

My eyes widened as I took in her meaning and I started shaking my head vigorously"No" I said, my voice husky and fearful"Nah uh, no way, not under any circumstances, no! I am not ... No! NO"


End file.
